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With her smoke trailing behind her and the guns 
barking in rapid succession, the Colodia raced toward 
the scene. 



NAVY BOYS TO 
THE RESCUE 


ANSWERING THE WIRELESS CALL 
FOR HELP 

BY 

HALSEY DAVIDSON 

Author of “Navy Boys After a Submarine,” “Navy 
Boys Chasing a Sea Raider,” etc. 


NEW YORK 

GEORGE SULLY AND COMPANY 


BOOKS FOR BOYS 


NAVY BOYS hRlKS 
By Halsey Davidson 
i2mo. Cloth. Illustrated. 

NAVY BOYS AFTER A SUBMARINE 
Or Protecting the Giant Convoy 


NAVY BOYS CHASING A SEA RAIDER 
Or Landing a Million Dollar Prize 


NAVY BOYS BEHIND THE BIG GUNS 
Or Sinking the German U-Boats 


NAVY BOYS TO THE RESCUE 
Or Answering the Wireless Call for Help 


NAVY BOYS TO THE BIG SURRENDER 
Or Rounding Up the German Fleet 

(Other volumes in preparation) 


GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 


Copyright, 1919, by 
GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY 


Navy Boys to the Rescue 

SEP 19 ore 

Printed in U. S. A. 


©Cl.A5308t>4 



NAVY BOYS TO THE RESCUE 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER page 

I The Friendly Grip .... 1 

II The Hun in His Fury ... 14 

HI The Missing Man .... 22 

IV The Paper Chase .... 32 

V The Trickster .40 

VI Work Ahead 47 

VII On the Grey Waters ... 56 

VIH The Yankee Way .... 64 

IX “Schmardie” 72 

X The Terror of the Seas . . 83 

XI Action 94 

XII Wireless Whispers .... 102 

XIII The Super-submersible . . 108 

XIV The Mirage 116 

XV Combing the Sea . . . .124 

XVI Stations \ - . . . . . . 132 

XVH The Spitfire 140 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

PAGE 

XVIII 

*'Ghost Talk’' Again 

. 147 

XIX 

A Difference of Opinion . 

. 155 

XX 

Too Late Again .... 

. 163 

XXI 

The Mystery Message . 

. 172 

XXII 

The Wireless Call for Help 

. 182 

XXIII 

The Sea Pigeon in Sight . 

. 192 

XXIV 

The Blind Chase 

. 201 

XXV 

A New Convoy .... 

. 207 


NAVY BOYS 
TO THE RESCUE 

CHAPTER I 

THE FRIENDLY GRIP 

'‘And yonder’s a snap-dragon; and that’s a 
buttercup. That is feverfew growing over there ; 
and there’s foxglove right there in that swampy 
place. Those are cowslip blossoms — the English 
cowslip is different from ours.” 

“Whew!” blew Phil Morgan, unpuckering his 
lips and breaking off tke haunting little air he had 
been whistling. “I wouldn’t believe you knew 
so much about the flora of this strange land, 
Frenchy.” 

“Oi, oi! Is it Flora he’s bragging about? Then 
Frenchy’s got a new girl!” 

“Sounds to me,” mumbled A1 Torrance, who 
lay along the flower-bestrewed bank with his hat 
over his eyes, “that he was discussing the fauna 
of the country — with his snap-dragons, and fox’s 
gloves, and cows slipping.” 

“Ignoramus that you are!” scoffed Michael 
Donahue, otherwise “Frenchy.” “I am talkin’ to 
Whistler. He knows something and appreciates 
the profundity of me learnin’.” 

“Ye-as,” drawled Torrance, otherwise “Torry,” 
as their leader began droning away, his lips puck- 
1 


2 


THE FRIENDLY GRIP 


ered again. "‘He knows just enough to whistle the 
same awful tune for an hour. What is it, any- 
way, Phil?’^ 

‘The tune the old cow died on, I guess,” sug- 
gested Ikey Rosenmeyer. 

“It’s a tune Phoebe was playing on the piano 
a good deal the last time we were home,” said 
Whistler with some gravity. “Wish I’d hear 
from the folks again. I am worried about 
Phoebe.” 

He spoke of his eldest sister, who during the 
last few months had not been well. Although, like 
many brothers and sisters, Philip Morgan, by his 
chums usually called Whistler, and Phoebe had 
their differences, now when far from home, “the 
folks” seem nearer and dearer than ever in his 
mind. 

Philip Morgan lay with his chums on a bank 
beside a tiny trickle of water called a brook in 
that shire, although it was nothing more than a 
rill. They were high up on “the downs,” over- 
looking a port in which the American destroyer 
Colodia lay at anchor amid a multitude of naval 
vessels of three nations. 

Over the sea a thick haze, on land the yellow 
sunshine, so welcome when it is se«n in England 
that it seems more beautiful than elsewhere. The 
boys had forty-three hours’ shore leave, and for 
that brief space of time they desired, as most 


THE FRIENDLY GRIP 


3 


sailors do, to get just as far away in spirit and in 
surroundings from the ship as possible. 

They had tramped into the country the day be- 
fore, spent the night in four wonderful beds in an 
old inn that might have harbored some of Sir 
Francis Drake’s men at the time of the Armada, 
and were now due at the wharf in a few hours. 

Life aboard a destroyer or an American sub- 
marine chaser in foreign service is not very 
pleasant if it is exciting. The space for sleeping, 
for instance, on these fast vessels is scarcely 
greater than that assigned to the crews of sub- 
marines. As Ikey Rosenmeyer, who possessed a 
riotous imagination, had said at the inn: 

''Oi, oi! sleeping in a real bed again is better 
than bein’ at home in Ireland, and Frenchy says 
that’s heaven ’cause his mother came from there. 
Why, it is better’n heaven ! You could spread out 
your legs and wiggle all your toes without havin’ 
the master-at-arms down on you like a thousand 
of brick.” 

Frenchy, in a dreamy and poetic mood, not in- 
frequent when the romantic Irish blood in his 
veins was stirred, was gazing off over the sea at 
the fogbank. 

‘Think of it,” he murmured. “How many 
hundred an’ thousan’ of ships have sailed out of 
this harbor into just such a fogbank as that — ” 

“And never came back,” interrupted Torry. 


4 


THE FRIENDLY GRIP 


"‘Some tough old gobs, the ancient British sea- 
man, boy.” 

Tough’ is right,” chuckled Frenchy, his 
poetic feelings exploded. “And they haven’t got 
over it yet. They’ve got old-timers in the British 
Navy now that can remember when the cat was 
used on the men’s backs, reg’lar.” 

“And every British sailor had tar on his 
breeches — ^that’s why they used to call ’em 'brave 
British tars,’” scoffed Torry. “Can it! These 
English chaps are all right. They aren’t much 
different from us garbies.” 

“Is that so?” exclaimed Ikey, whoSe sharp 
eyes allowed little to escape them. “What kind of 
a deep-sea crab do you call this cornin’ down the 
road right now, I want to know ?” 

Phil Morgan paid no attention to what his 
mates were talking about. The peaceful English 
landscape charmed his eye. 

Down the gently sloping road which, after a 
mile or so, led into the Upper Town, as it was 
called in distinction from the port, or Lower 
Town, the stone cottages — some almost hidden by 
vines — stood sentinel-wise along the way. 

One rather larger house was a schoolhouse. 
Nothing at all like the schoolhouses in America 
in appearance. But Phil Morgan knew it was a 
schoolhouse, and that the school was in session, 
for he had seen the children filing in not long be- 


THE FRIENDLY GRIP 


5 


^ore and their voices had been raised in song 
just before Frenchy had begun to note the dif- 
ferent flowers. 

The excited chatter of the other boys finally 
aroused Morgan from his contemplation of the 
peaceful scene. In the other direction, toward 
which his mates were looking, the outlook was 
not so peaceful. At least, not at one particular 
spot in the hedge-bordered road. It did not need 
a sailor’s weather eye to see that the situation was 
‘^squally.” 

The “deep-sea crab,” the presence of which 
Ikey had announced, proved on further examina- 
tion to be two individuals, not one. But they 
were closely attached to one another and the way 
they “wee-wawed,” as Torry said, from one side 
of the road to the other, certainly would lead to 
the supposition that intoxication was the cause of 
such tacking from hedge to hedge. 

“And one of ’em’s one of our own garbies,” 
declared Frenchy. “Isn’t that a shame?” 

“But look at that big feller, will you?” gasped 
Ikey. “Why, he must weigh a ton 1” 

“You’re stretching that a bit, Ikey,” ad- 
monished Whistler, breaking off in his tune to 
speak. “But he is a whale of a man.” 

“Biggest garby I ever saw,” breathed Torry, 
amazed. 

It was the big fellow only, it proved, who was 


6 


THE FRIENDLY GRIP 


partly intoxicated. He was a British sailor. His 
companion was both perfectly sober and perfectly 
mad. His face was aflame as he and his unwel- 
come companion approached the four Navy 
Boys. 

The big fellow gripped him by the collar of his 
blouse, and it was utterly impossible for the Yan- 
kee lad to get away from “the friendly grip.” 

“Talk about this "hands across the sea' stuff,” 
murmured Torrance. ""Here’s a case where it is 
going too far. We’ll have to rescue a brother 
gar by, won’t we?” 

""Believe me, that’s a reg’lar mamma’s boy 
Johnny Bull has got his grip on, too,” chuckled 
Frenchy. 

""Hush up, you fellows,” advised Phil Morgan, 
with sudden interest. "‘I believe I know that fel- 
low.” 

""Not Goliath yonder?” cried Ikey Rosen- 
meyer. ""I didn’t know you sailed with such 
craft.” 

""The other chap,” Morgan explained. 

""If he’s a friend,” began Torrance, commenc- 
ing to roll back his sleeves suggestively. 

""Sit down!” advised the older boy, sharply. 
""We’d look nice piling onto that big fellow, 
wouldn’t we?” 

“And the whole of us couldn’t handle him,” 
murmured Frenchy. 


THE FRIENDLY GRIP 


7 


‘'You never know till you try,” said the opti^ 
mistic Torrance. 

“This is a case for strategy,” stated Morgan. 
“Now, don’t any of you fellows lose your heads.” 
Then he hailed the two tacking along the road : 

“Ahoy! Hey, you!”. 

The American lad who was held in durance by 
the British sailor looked up and showed some- 
thing besides the red flag of annoyance in his 
countenance. 

“I say, you fellows!” he cried. “Help me out 
of this, will you?” 

At this the huge British seaman for the first 
time appeared to see the four boys on the bank 
beside the road. 

“My heye!” he bellowed, standing still, but 
wagging his head from side to side in a perfectly 
ridiculous way. “My heye! ’Ere’s a ’ole bloomin’ 
ship load of ’em. Ahoy, me ’earties, let the heagle 
scream!” and he led off in a mighty cheer that 
awoke the echoes of the heretofore peaceful coun- 
tryside. 

Frenchy and Ikey, in great glee, sprang up and 
cheered with him. But the expression in the 
countenance of the giant’s captive caused the two 
older Navy Boys to smother their amusement. 

“That’s the way he's been going on for four 
hours — and more,” groaned the captive. “Why! 
he hung on to my collar all the time we were eat- 


8 


THE FRIENDLY GRIP 


ing dinner up there at that inn. Made the bar- 
maid cut up his victuals for him. Paid her a 
shilling for doing it.” 

‘‘Say, is her name Flora?” Ikey asked, at once 
interested. “Is that the girl Frenchy was just 
talking abut?” 

But Torrance quenched him with a hand on his 
mouth. The situation of the Yankee youth in that 
giant’s hands seemed more serious than they 
supposed. The grip of the big hand never re- 
laxed. 

“ ’Ere we are, all together, me ’earties,” rum- 
bled the giant. “Hi’m glad to know yuh. Hi’m 
Willum Johnson, ’im that ’ad a barrow hin the 
Old Kent Road before the war. Hand jolly well 
knowed Hi was to the perlice,” confessed the 
man frankly. 

“Hit alius took six bobbies to tajce me hin, 
lads. Hand now one o’ the bloomin’ hofficers 
makes me walk a chalkline, haboard ship. Hi tell 
yuh, ain’t this war terrible ?” 

“That’s what it is,” admitted Frenchy, staring 
at the man with wide-open eyes. 

“Come over here and sit down— and tell us all 
about it,” Whistler Morgan said, beckoning. 

“Hi’ll go yuh!” declared the giant seaman. 
“Hand so wull me friend — one o’ the nicest little 
Yankees Hi ever come across.’' 

The strange Yankee sailor was too much dis- 


THE FRIENDLY GRIP 


9 


turbed by his situation to look very closely at 
Phil and his comrades. The viselike grip of the 
semi-intoxicated giant on his collar was the prin- 
cipal thing in the victim’s mind. 

Almost as soon as the British seaman sprawled 
on the grassy bank his head began to nod and his 
eyes to close. 

“He’s going off,” whispered A1 Torrance. 

“You’d think he would,” returned the victim 
of the over-friendly seaman, in the same tone, “if 
you could have seen him eat and drink. You 
never sav\r such an appetite! He had everybody 
at that inn standing around and gaping at us.” 

It was evident that the young sailor felt his 
position deeply. He was a nice looking fellow, 
very neat in his dress, and with delicate features. 

“How did you come to fall in with him in the 
first place ?” A1 asked, as the giant began to snore. 

“Why,” explained the stranger, “I started to 
walk down to the port because it was so pleasant. 
He was sitting outside the place where I stopped 
for tea and muffins after I’d walked a way. I 
had no idea he was so— so far gone. But he must 
have been drinking for days,” casting a dis- 
gusted glance at his close companion whose ham- 
like hand never relaxed. “He learned where I 
was going, and he at once got a grip on my col- 
lar. He hasn’t let go since — I never saw such a 
man!” concluded the stranger morosely. 


THE FRIENDLY GRIP 


‘‘His hand will drop off when he gets sound 
asleep,” Whistler said comfortingly. “Then we’ll 
sneak.” 

“Don’t you believe it !” whispered the other in 
vast disgust. “He fell asleep after dinner, but his 
fingers are just clamped on to my collar. When I 
tried to wriggle away, he awoke. See !” 

He tried to pull away from the friendly grip. 
At once the British seaman half aroused ; but his 
fingers never relaxed. 

“William Johnson his my nyme — 

Seaman’s my hav-o-cation ! 

Hi’m hin this war for a penny-bun — 

Hand so is hall my nation !’ 

Hoo-roo!” mumbled the gigantic sailor, and fell 
asleep again. 

“Now, what do you know about that?” de- 
manded the victim of brotherly love. “And me 
— Well, I’m due aboard the Colodia today.” 

“The Colodiar exclaimed the four Navy Boys 
in chorus. 

None of them wofe a designating mark, for 
they had on their white service caps. But the 
Colodia was the Yankee destroyer to which Mor- 
gan, Torrance, Donahue and Rosenmeyer belong- 
ed. The four gazed on the stranger with increas- 
ed interest at his statement. 

“Say,” Whistler asked, “aren’t you George Bel- 
ding? Didn’t you and your folks come up to 


THE FRIENDLY GRIP 


11 


Seacove from New York five or six years ago and 
spend the summer in the old Habershaw House? 
I'm Phil Morgan. We lived right next to the 
Habershaw House.” 

‘‘My goodness!” exclaimed the strange youth, 
sticking out his hand to grab Whistler's. “And 
your father, Dr. Morgan, and mine went to col- 
lege together. That's what brought us up to 
Seacove. Sure! My mother wasn't well. We 
all got fat and sassy up there. I declare I’m glad 
to see you, Phil Morgan !” 

“Me long lost brother!” whispered Frenchy to 
the others. “Have you still got the strawberry 
mark upon your arm ?” 

But A1 Torrance was quite as serious as Whist- 
ler and the newly-introduced George Belding. 

“Say, fellows,” A1 said, “if he’s going to be one 
of us on the old destroyer, we've got to help him 
out of this mess.” 

“Go ahead ! How ?” demanded Ikey. 

A1 produced a pocketknife which he opened 
quickly. It had a long and sharp blade. He ap- 
proached the snoring giant on the bank. 

“Oi Oi!” gasped Ikey Rosenmeyer. “Never 
mind ! Don’t kill him in cold blood. Remember, 
Tofry, it's Germans we're fightin', not these 
Britishers.” 

“What are you going to do?” demanded Beld- 
ing. 


12 


THE FRIENDLY GRIP 


“Cut your collar away,” said Torrance. 
“That's about all you can do. If he wants to 
hang on to the collar, let him.” 

“It’ll spoil his shirt,” objected Ikey. 

“Sh! Go ahead,” murmured Belding. “It’s a 
good idea. I couldn’t get at my own knife and 
do it, with him hanging on to me so tightly.” 

“Take care, Al,” advised Whistler. “And you 
other fellows stand aside. Be ready to run when 
George is free.” 

His advice was good. The giant seaman still 
snored, but it would not take much to rouse him. 

The five boys were now so much interested in 
the attempt to get Belding free that they took no 
heed of anything else. So they were all shocked 
when a chorus of steam whistles and sirens sud- 
denly broke forth from the port below them. A 
gun boomed on the admiral’s ship. Pandemonium 
was let loose without warning. 

“Oh, my aunt !” groaned George Belding, 
“what is that?” 

“Willum Johnson” awoke with a start and a 
grunt, and, sitting up on the bank, demanded of 
everybody in general, “ ’Go’s shootin’ hof the 
bloomin’ gun?” 

But Whistler and Torry had whirled to look 
out to sea. They had heard a similar alarm be- 
fore. Out of the blue-gray fogbank over the sea, 
and high, high up toward the hazy sky, whirled a 


THE FRIENDLY GRIP 


13 


black object, no bigger at first than a bird. But 
how rapidly it approached the port, and how 
quickly its outline became perfectly clear! 

“A Zep, boys!” cried A1 Torrance. ‘There's 
a raid on! That's a German machine, sure's 
you are a foot high!” 

“Are you sure?” munnured Belding, who had 
been dragged quickly to his feet by the giant, j 

“Hit’s the bloomin' 'Uns — no fear it ain’t!” 
ejaculated the big British seaman. “Ah ! There 
goes the a-he-rial guns.” 

Splotches of white smoke sprang up from 
several shoulders of the hill that overlooked the 
port. The watchful coast-defense men were not 
unprepared ; but the enemy airship, rapidly grow- 
ing bigger in thr. boys' eyes, winged its way nearer 
to the land, boldly ignoring the shells sent up to 
meet it. 

“She's going tj drop her bombs right over the 
town!” gasped '/histler, grabbing Belding, who 
was nearest. 


CHAPTER II 


THE HUN IN HIS FURY 

Wheeling up from behind them on the higher 
shoulder of the hill, an airplane spiraled into the 
upper ether, in an attempt to get above the huge 
machine that had, two minutes before, appeared 
out of the sea fog. But this attempt to balk the 
Hun, like those of the anti-aircraft guns in their 
emplacements about the port, promised little suc- 
cess. 

The fog had made the close approach of the 
huge Zeppelin possible, and now the rumble of the 
motors of the enemy machine could be heard 
clearly by the four Navy Boys on the hillside and 
their two companions. 

“Oh, cracky!” gasped A1 Torrance. “She's 
coming 1” 

“And right this way!” gulped Ikey Rosen- 
meyer. “If she drops a bomb — ” 

“Good-night!” completed Frenchy in a 
sepulchral tone. 

“Let's get under cover !” cried George Belding, 
striving again to get away from the “friendly 
grip'’ of the British sailor, Willum Johnson. 

*^Hold on!” commanded Whistler Morgan. 
“No use Iqsing our heads over this.” 


14 


THE HUN IN HIS FURY 


15 


“If one of those bombs lands near us we’ll likely 
lose more than our heads,” grumbled Torry. 

“Wait ! If we run like a bunch of scared rab- 
bits, we are likely to run right into danger rather 
than away from it.” 

“Those horns down there say Tind a cellar!’ ” 
whispered Frenchy. 

“Oi, oi !” added Ikey. “There ain’t no cellars 
up here on this hill yet.” 

“Keep cool,” repeated Whistler. The other 
boys were used to listening to him, and to follow- 
ing his advice. He was a cautious as well as a 
courageous lad, and his chums were usually safe 
in following Philip Morgan’s lead. 

These four boys, all hailing from the New 
England coast town of Seacove, had begun their 
first “hitch,” as an enlistment is called, in the 
United States Navy as apprentice seamen, several 
months before America got into the Great War, 
and some months before the oldest of the four 
was eighteen. 

They had now spent more than a year and a 
half in the service, and their experiences had been 
many and varied. After their initial training at 
Saugarack, the big Naval training camp, the four 
chums, with others of their friends and camp 
associates, had been sent aboard the torpedo boat 
destroyer, Colodia, one of the newest, largest, and 
fastest of her type in the United States Navy. 


16 


THE HUN IN ms FURY. 


The Colodic^s first two cruises were full of 
excitement and adventure for the four Navy 
Boys, especially for Philip Morgan; for he fell 
overboard from the destroyer and was picked up 
by the German submarine U-812, and his experi- 
ences thereon and escape therefrom, are narrated 
in the first volume of this series, entitled : “Navy 
Boys After the Submarines; Or, Protecting the 
Giant Convoy.” 

The second of the series, “Navy Boys Chasing 
a Sea Raider ; or Landing a Million Dollar Prize,” 
relates the experiences of these four friends on a 
longer and even more adventurous cruise of the 
Colodia. Under the command of Ensign Mac- 
Masters, the Navy Boys as members of a prize 
crew, took the captured Graf von Posen into 
Norfolk; and their experiences on the captured 
raider made a dramatic and exciting story of the 
day-by-day work of the boys of the Navy. 

Through their kind friend Mr. Alonzo Min- 
nette, who was holding a volunteer position at 
Washington in the Navy Department, the four 
chums obtained a chance to cruise with the super- 
dreadnaught Kennebunk, a brand new and one 
of the largest of the modern American fighting 
machines launched during the first months of the 
war. The Colodia having gone across the Atlantic 
while the boys were with the captured raider, they 
with Ensign MacMasters were very glad to join 


THE HUN IN HIS FURY 17 

the crew of the huge superdreadnaught in the 
interim. 

The third volume of the series, “Navy Boys 
Behind the Big Guns; Or, Sinking the German 
U-Boats,” took our heroes intO' perils and adven- 
tures which they will long remember, for they 
included work in the gun turrets of the Kenne- 
hunk, a wreck that threatened the lives of all four 
chums, a mix-up with German spies, and finally a 
record trip across the Atlantic by which the huge 
superdreadnaught arrived at the rendezvous in 
time to take part in a naval engagement which 
put a part of the Hun navy to flight. 

Now the four friends were back on the Colodia 
which was doing patrol duty off the English 
and French coasts, and convoying troop and food 
ships through the submarine and mine zones. The 
base of the squadron of which the destroyer was 
a member was at this English port, on the hillside 
above which Philip Morgan, Alfred Torrance, 
Michael Donahue and Ikey Rosenmeyer have 
been introduced just as they met the American 
sailor lad, George Belding, and his doubtful 
friend, the giant ex-coster, “Willum” Johnson. 

“Keep cool,” Whistler urged again, as the Zep- 
pelin sailed inland. “There is no use run- 
ning 

His further speech was smothered by a terrific 
explosion from th^ port below. A lurid burst of 


18 


THE HUN IN HIS FURY 


flame, stronger that the sunlight, shot into the air 
where a wharf and warehouse had been. Smoke 
followed, instantly hiding the mark the bomb 
from the Zeppelin had found. 

This daylight raid was the boldest the Germans 
had attempted. The enemy must have supposed 
the fog was over the land as well as the sea, or he 
would never have risked the attack. 

Again a nerve-racking explosion following a 
flash of light that seared their eyeballs, and the 
middle of the town — the market place — was 
shrouded by thick smoke. 

‘The dirty ’ounds!” bawled the British sea- 
man, suddenly finding his voice. “The dirty 
’ounds! They’re killin’ women an’ kids down 
there! Lemme get my bloomin’ ’ands on ’em !” 

He dropped George Belding’s collar at last and 
would have started in a clumsy run down the 
hill. It was Whistler who stopped him, with a 
two-handed grip on the Englishman’s collar now. 

“What good would you be down there, man?” 
the American youth demanded. “You’d only get 
yours, too, maybe. Those bombs are falling two 
or three thousand feet.” 

“Argh!” growled Willum Johnson, shaking 
his huge fists in the air, his face raised to the 
coming Zeppelin. The growl was animal-like, 
not human. “Argh! Lemme get ’em ” 

A third bomb exploded. A big house below 


THE HUN IN HIS FURY 


19 


them, half way down the hillside, disappeared. 
It was as though a monstrous sponge had been 
wiped across that spot and erased the building ! 

‘'Oh ! Look out ! Look out 1” sobbed Frenchy, 
and covered his eyes with his hands. 

His chum Ikey shook beside him, but could not 
close his eyes to the horror. 

The Zeppelin was curving around, evidently 
determined to make for the sea and the fogbank 
again. Beneath it, on either side, even above it, 
the bursts of white smoke betrayed the explosion 
of aerial shells the defense guns were firing at the 
enemy machine. And all the time the single 
British airplane on duty was climbing skyward. 

‘Tf that thing can only get above the Zep. !” 
murmured A1 Torrance. 

Suddenly the airplane darted toward the sea, in 
a sharp slant upward. Bravely the pilot sought 
to cut off the Zeppelin’s escape into the fogbank 
out of which she had burst five minutes before. 

Guns from the Huns’ airship began to bark. 
They were firing on the British plane. The lat- 
ter’s guns made no reply as she continued to 
mount into the upper air. 

The course of the Hun machine was changed 
again. In approaching the hills surrounding the 
port the Zeppelin was brought much nearer to the 
earth. 

The ship was indeed a monster ! Swung land- 


20 


THE HUN IN HIS FURY 


ward to escape the mounting airplane, the Zeppe- 
lin, its motors thundering, came closer and closer 
to the spot where the American sailor boys were 
standing. 

'‘Bli’me!’' roared the apparently fast-sobering 
Britisher. ‘‘They are goin’ to drop one o’ them 
blarsted buns on our bloomin’ ’eads !” 

“ ‘Buns’ is good,” groaned Al. **Here she 
comes r 

It seemed as though the great airship was 
directly above them. The boys actually saw the 
bomb released and fall! 

There was no possible mistake on the part of 
the brutal crew and commander of the Zeppelin. 
They knew very well the bomb would fall upon 
no warship in the harbor, or any possible storage 
place of munitions. Up here on the hillside were 
nothing but little dwellings and — the schoolhouse ! 

As though it were aimed at that house of in- 
struction, the great shell fell and burst! If 
teacher and pupils had descended into the cellar 
at the first alarm of the horns and guns, it would 
scarcely have availed to save them. The shot was 
too direct. 

One moment the green-tiled, freshly whitened 
walls of the schoolhouse stood out plainly against 
the yellow and green landscape. Then, with a 
roar, it was wiped out and a huge balloon of 
whitish brown smoke took its place. 


THE HUN IN HIS FURY 


21 


The explosion shook the air and the earth. The 
group of Navy Boys were struck to the ground. 
Only the gigantic figure of Willum Johnson re- 
mained erect, and he wavering on his feet and 
mouthing threats at the enemy. 

‘‘They killed ’em ! They killed ’em !” he bawled, 
when he could be heard. “The women an’ the 
kids!” 

He started on a staggering run, up the road this 
time, as though trying to follow the wake of the 
fast descending Zeppelin. The British airplane 
was above the enemy machine and was raking it 
with machine gun fire. Some damage had been 
suffered by the Zeppelin. She was descending, 
out of control. 

But Morgan ran down the hill, toward the 
bombed schoolhouse — or the place where it had 
been. The other boys followed him. Frenchy 
was frankly crying, and Ikey clung to his hand as 
though afraid to let go. 


CHAPTER III 


THE MISSING MAN 

The smoking ruins of the schoolhouse and its 
outbuildings were now visible. The five boys 
came to the edge of the crater which marked the 
effect of the explosion of the bomb from the Zep- 
pelin. 

From somewhere appeared an old man in a 
smock, and his hard, weather-beaten face writhed 
with an emotion unspeakable. His outstretched 
shaking hand pointed to the spot where the school- 
house had stood. 

“I saw her face at the pane but the moment 
before. She waved her hand to me,'’ he said. 

His awestricken tone made the American lads 
tremble. A younger man with his face bloody 
from a wound above the temple appeared beside 
the boys with the same startling suddenness. 

’Twas his gran’darter. She teached here,” 
whispered the wounded man. He laid hold upon 
the old man. “Come away, Daddie,” he said. 
“Come away wi* me now.” 

A woman screamed up the road just as Phil 
Morgan spied a motor ambulance with a huge 
red cross on it, mounting from the port. Rescue 


22 


THE MISSING MAN 


23 


parties were afoot already. There really was 
nothing the American lads could do at the 
wrecked schoolhouse. The shrill cry of the 
woman above them caused all five to turn to look. 

‘‘ *Tis down! *Tis down!” 

The Americans were just in season to see the 
Zeppelin crumble like a huge concertina and dive 
toward the earth. Fire broke out amidships. 

The landing of the Hun airship took place far 
up on the open hill, in a pasture above the road. 
The boys could see the gigantic British seaman 
toiling toward the Zeppelin. He was the nearest 
person to the burning airship as it came down, 
although there were other men running over the 
downs toward the spot. 

“Cracky!” exclaimed A1 Torrance to Belding, 
“your big chum is going to fight them single 
handed !” 

“Come on, fellows!” Whistler cried, starting 
away. “We can do no good here. But those 
Germans must not escape !” 

“No chance!” exclaimed Ikey. “They won't 
even try. If the English hung every member of 
the Zep crews they caught the Kaiser would soon 
have hard work finding men to man the bomb- 
droppers.” 

“Right you are,” Frenchy agreed. “The baby- 
killers !” 

He was still sobbing. Right then and there the 


24 


THE MISSING MAN 


Navy Boys would have been glad to take ven- 
geance on the crew of the Zeppelin. The first 
man was descending out of the burning machine. 
The Americans saw the huge British sailor spring 
upon him. 

“There was no kamerad stuff/' Torry observed. 
The two locked and went to the ground, disap- 
pearing in a wallow. 

At this sight the boys uttered a cheer and leaped 
the hedge beside the road. They tore up the hill 
as fast as they could run. A shot sounded, and 
the spurt of flame and smoke marked the appear- 
ance of a farmer with a shotgun. He, nowever, 
was firing at the balloon of the Zeppelin, not at 
her crew. 

From the machine a second figure dropped to 
the ground, and just as the farmer firerf his second 
barrel. This second member of the crew darted 
away from the burning wreck and disappeared 
into the furze that covered the summit of the hill. 

“That Heinie's running away, Whistler !" cried 
Al, but kept on himself with the younger boys 
toward the airship. 

Belding looked at Whistler. “Shall we let him 
beat it?” the former asked the Seacove boy. 

“Not on your life!” Whistler cried. “Come 
on! If we’re not a match for one Heinie — we 
two — ^then ” 

They turned directly up the hill, and in two 


THh MiiiSlNLr MAN 


25 


minutes were over the ridge. Instead of the 
smooth pasture land they had just crossed this side 
of the hill was of barren soil and covered with 
boulders. To follow a trail here was scarcely 
possible, but the two American boys soon found 
traces of the Hun, where he had broken through 
the bushes on the summit. 

‘‘We don’t know this country,” Whistler said 
cautiously. “There may be lots of hide-outs 
around here.” 

“He doesn’t know it, either,” Belding declared. 

“We don’t know that,” the other boy said 
sharply. “They say every square foot of Eng- 
land was mapped by German spies before the 
war. Somehow, that Heinie slipping away the 
way he did, looks fishy.” 

“How so?” 

“They always give up — ^these Zep crews. They 
know the worst will happen to them is internment. 
Running away like this will put him in dead 
wrong, if he’s caught,” added Whistler. 

“I suppose that’s so, Morgan,” agreed Belding. 
“But maybe the poor fish was scared out of his 
five senses.” 

“Let Frenchy tell it, these Heinies don’t own 
five senses,” Whistler chuckled. “He says they 
haven’t got more than two.” 

“Uh-huh. That might be. Maybe this fellow 
ran for quite another reason.” 


26 


THE MISSING MAN 


“What’s that?” 

“Because he is a spy.” 

Whistler digested that idea slowly. It looked 
reasonable. He knew that it was said sometimes 
the bombing machines dropped spies on British 
soil. 

“We’d better be careful, then,” he said at last. 
“The chap may be armed.” 

“No ‘maybe’ about it. He’s sure to be,” Beld- 
ing said vigorously. “We’d look nice getting shot 
ashore here by a Heinie. What would our folks 
say ?” 

“By the way, George,” Whistler Morgan said, 
“how are your folks? Do you hear from them? 
When did you come across the pond?” 

“One at a time!” exclaimed Belding. “Lil 
writes me — ^you remember my sister, Lilian? 
She was all legs and lanky yellow hair when we 
were up there in Seacove that summer.” 

“I remember her,” Whistler admitted. “She’s 
a pretty girl.” 

“Huh! Think so? She isn’t a patch on your 
sister, Alice, for looks. And that reminds me — 
have you heard the news ?” 

“I’ve not heard much news from home lately, 
if that is what you mean,” said Whistler. “Guess 
my mail’s been delayed.” 

“Why, say ! let me tell you about it. First of 
all, I came across two months ago and have been 


THE MISSING MAN 


27 


on father’s yacht, the Sirius — ^sub. chaser, you 
know. Course it isn’t called the Sirius any more. 
He let the Navy Department have it, you know.” 

‘‘Why, George!” gasped Whistler, “I didn’t 
know you folks had a yacht.” 

“Father owns a slew of freight ships. It’s on 
one of his ships that they are all sailing next 
month for Bahia.” 

“That’s in South America,” said Whistler 
thoughtfully. 

“Yes. Father thinks there is going to be the 
biggest kind of commercial opportunity in Brazil 
and other South American states after the war. 
The Germans will be in bad down there. Father 
is going to establish a branch of his business in 
Bahia, and stay himself for a year or more — 
perhaps until the war’s end.” 

“You don’t say!” 

“Yes, I do, Country!” laughed Belding. “And 
Lil and mother are going to take your sisters with 
them.” 

“Wha — what’s that you say?” Whistler ejacu- 
lated, in blank amazement. 

“I guess you haven’t heard from home lately,” 
Belding said. “Didn’t you know anything about 
it?” 

“Not a word.” 

“They’ll sail on the Redhird, That’s one of 
father’s biggest ships. You see, Doctor Morgan 


28 


THE MISSING MAN 


was in New York and came to see us, so Lil wrote 
me. And he said how much he desired to send 
your sister Phoebe off on a long sea voyage. So 
they made it up, right there and then. Your 
sister Alice is going, too, and my mother will 
chaperone the crowd. Tell you what, Phil, if it 
wasn't for this man’s war. I’d like to drop every- 
thing here and go with them. Some sport ! What 
wouldn’t we do to those girls when the Redhird 
crossed the equator !” 

The boys had been standing in the lee of a big 
rock while thus conversing in low tones. Sud- 
denly Whistler saw a movement on the hillside 
below them. A man dived behind a boulder, dis- 
appearing like a flash. 

“There!” whispered Whistler. “I saw him! 
Did you?” 

“I saw something,” admitted Belding. “Wish 
that big Johnny Bull friend of mine was here.” 

“He’d be a bigger mark for a pistol ball — if the 
Hun is armed — ^than we make !” 

Good-night r breathed Belding. “I don’t wish 
to consider myself as any such target.” 

Nevertheless the two lads did not hesitate to 
approach the spot where they had caught a glimpse 
of the escaping German. Whistler Morgan, at 
least, had been in many a perilous corner since 
he had joined the Navy as apprentice seaman, 
^nd he was not likely to show the white feather 


THE MISSING MAN 


29 


now. As for George Belding, Whistler did not 
know much about him ; but when they were some 
years younger and George had visited Seacove, 
he seemed to be as courageous a boy as one would 
wish to meet. 

The boys on shore leave of course were without 
arms of any description. And, as had been sug- 
gested, the German might be armed. The Ameri- 
cans took no chances in their search for the 
enemy. 

There was a big boulder just ahead, and at 
Whistler’s suggestion the two climbed this and, 
lying flat on their stomachs, wormed their way 
to the summit, from which a better view of what 
lay below on the side hill could be obtained. 

"‘Sh ! That’s the fellow !” hissed Belding, seiz- 
ing Whistler’s arm almost at once. 

The Seacove boy saw the olive-gray figure at 
the same moment. The two lay and watched the 
German making himself comfortable in a little 
hollow between two rocks some rods below their 
station. The man had evidently scrutinized all 
his surroundings and believed himself to be un- 
observed. 

‘‘What’s he got in his bundle?” whispered 
George Belding. 

“Got me. I saw he had that when he dropped 
from the burning Zep.” 

The two had not long to wait to learn just what 


30 


THE MISSING MAN 


the man carried with him. Being assured that 
he was alone, he dropped the bundle and proceeded 
to untie it Then he began to remove his flying 
clothes. 

“A disguise,” were the words Belding’s lips 
mouthed, and Whistler nodded. 

The latter was making a thorough scrutiny of 
the German^s face. Whether they captured the 
man or not he proposed to know him again if he 
met him — no matter where. 

He was lean-faced, with a prominent nose, and 
eyes that Whistler thought were gray or a pale 
blue. He wore a tuft of black whisker on his 
chin and a little moustache. This, and the way he 
wore his hair — long and shaggy — ^made him look 
anything but Teutonic. 

The boys beheld the fellow, stripped of his 
outer garments, don loose trousers, a farmer’s 
smock, and a cap. Although he did not look 
English in the face, he was dressed much as the 
boys had seen the neighboring agriculturists and 
drovers dress. He even put on a pair of heavy 
boots instead of the laced shoes he had worn in 
the Zeppelin. 

“That chap means business,” whispered Beld- 
ing. And then he suddenly grunted almost aloud, 
for out of his bundle the spy produced a pair of 
automatic pistols which he proceeded to hide 
under the loose blouse he now wore. 


THE MISSING MAN 


31 


“He is prepared to fight/' agreed Whistler 
under his breath. “We can’t capture him without 
help. George.” 

“You’ve said something, Whistler! One of us 
will have to go for help.” 

“Which shall it be — ^you or I?” asked Phil in 
the same cautious tone. “A1 and the others would 
be glad to be in on this.” 

“And my friend Johnson, from the Old Kent 
Road He’s sober now and worth two ordinary 
men in a scrimmage,” and Belding smiled broadly. 

“Shall I go?” 

“All right,” agreed Belding. “But be quick. 
And if I’m not here, I’ll drop papers to show my 
trail I’ve plenty of old letters in my pocket to 
tear up.” 

“Good idea,” said Whistler, preparing to slide 
feet first down the rock. “Don’t get into trouble 
with that fellow, George.” 

With this admonition he left the other Ameri- 
can lad and started back up the hill on the other 
side of which the huge airship had fallen to the 
earth. 


CHAPTER IVi 


THE PAPER CHASE 

Once again on the summit of the hill Whistler 
Morgan could overlook all the sloping pastureland 
bordering the pleasant road he and his friends 
had been strolling upon when the Zeppelin ap- 
peared; and he could view all the port and the 
harbor, as well. 

It was no peaceful scene now. The bombing 
of the port had done no damage to the ship- 
ping ; but there were fires burning in three places 
in the town, as well as on the site of the school- 
house and where the Hun airship had fallen. No 
second Zeppelin had appeared from the sea; but 
the guarding airplanes had now gathered like vul- 
tures, floating high above the port. 

Whistler did not wish to look in the direction 
of the schoolhouse site a second time. The shock 
of the destruction of all those innocent children 
was too fresh in his mind for him to be willing 
to view the spot closer. The crowd gathered 
about the steaming ruins were made up for the 
most part, probably, of the bereaved parents and 
friends of the victims. 

In the opposite direction, up the road, where 


32 


THE PAPER CHASE 


33 


the twisted wreck of the Zeppelin lay, the Ameri- 
can lad could distinguish the figures of some of 
his friends. He hurried in that direction, and as 
he drew near he saw that the crowd here gathered 
was very much excited. The man who had previ- 
ously used the shotgun was waving his weapon 
threateningly, and some of the other people of the 
countryside were shouting at the group of gray- 
green figures that was plainly the crew and offi- 
cers of the wrecked airship. 

One of these Germans — a big fellow — showed 
marks of a serious beating. He was the fellow, 
Whistler was sure, that Willum Johnson had at- 
tacked. 

The giant British seaman and the Colodid boys 
were right up in the forefront of the threatening 
crowd facing the Germans. But Whistler saw 
that there was a British Naval officer and several 
constables in charge of the prisoners. 

“Remember, my man, that you wear the King’s 
uniform,” the British officer was saying to the 
giant as Phil approached. “I shall have to report 
your attack upon this prisoner. They all gave 
themselves up—” 

“And they were all armed — every one of them,” 
put in Frenchy, sotto voce. 

The officer glared at him; but it gave Willum 
Johnson courage to addr 

“Who says they didn’t iry to escape? Hi got 


34 


THE PAPER CHASE 


the first bloke hout of the machine, Hi did. Then 
bother folks run up an^ ’twas hall over.” 

“I saw one run,” Frenchy declared, looking 
boldly at the Naval officer. 

“So did I, sir,” added A1 Torrance. 

“You mean that one of these Germans tried to 
run after the seaman here made his unwarranted 
attack upon them?” asked the officer sharply. 

“Bill jumped on the first fellow out of the 
machine,” A1 said with confidence. “The second 
chap ran up over that ridge and disappeared.” 

“Nonsense!” exclaimed the officer. “Here are 
fourteen — all that were in the crew, so their com- 
mander says.” 

“And Hi wouldn’t believe him if ’ee swore hit 
hon a stack of Bibles as ’igh as a 'ousel” cried the 
Coster. 

Just at this junctu. , Whistler Morgan inter- 
fered. He said very respectfully to the Navy 
officer : 

“Beg pardon, sir, but the German that escaped 
is over behind the hill now. One of my chums 
and I chased him, and ” 

“Do you mean to tell me there were fifteen 
members of the crew of this Zeppelin?” 

“Fm not sure of that. He may not have been 
an accredited member. I think he is a spy brought 
over for some purpose and dropped here.” 

“You know where he is?” demanded the officer. 


THE PAPER CHASE 


35 


“Yes, sir. My friend is watching him now. 
He had a bundle with a disguise and pistols in it. 
You’d never know him for a German the way he 
looks now.” 

“Horray for Whistler, fellows!” shouted A1 
Torrance. “Let’s all go after the Heiniel” 

The boys from the Colodia started away from 
the wreck at once, but the British Naval officer 
called after them : 

“Hold on, my lads. I can’t have you going 
alone on such a mission. If there really is a spy 
at large ” 

“He’s at large, all right, sir,” Morgan inter- 
posed. “Give us Willum Johnson and we’ll get 
the fellow, sure.” 

“Aye, lad 1” cried the giant sailor. “We’ll git 
’im, dead or alive.” 

“You see that you get him dive, Bill,” said the 
officer, sternly. “No mistake about that. Til 
have to explain your pounding this fellow all up.” 

“Bli’me!” said Johnson, “Hi didn’t begin to 
treat ’im rough enough.” 

But this was under his breath and after he had 
turned away to follow the four Navy Boys. The 
officer did not hear the comment. 

By Whistler’s advice they all stooped at the 
summit and crept over the ridge among the bushes 
and rocks, endeavoring to keep their bodies out 
of the view of anybody below on the hillside, 


36 THE PAPER CHASE 

where Phil had left George Belding and the Ger- 
man spy. 

“Hit’s a fair chance, lads, they seed me,” re^ 
marked the British seaman. “But mebbe they’d 
spot muh for a bloomin’ cow !” 

“Where’s that other fellow, Whistler?” asked 
Al. “Belding, did you call him ?” 

“Yes. You ought to remember him, To’rry. 
He was all one summer at Seacove. And say! 
his folks and my folks are in the most wonderful 
mix-up — wait till I get a chance to tell you all 
about it!” 

The party dodged from rock to rock and from 
one clump of brush to another. Soon Whistler 
was rather surprised that they did not spy George 
Belding. He was not lying on the big rock where 
Whistler had left him. 

“W’ere’s your chum, lad?” asked Willum John- 
son, 

“I guess the spy must have moved. George 
would follow him,” Whistler said with confidence 

“But how shall we know which way they have 
gone? We’re no Red Indians on the trail,” 
Frenchy observed. 

“Oi, oi!” added Ikey Rosenmeyer. “It’s neai 
sunset, too.” 

“Don’t be afeared, lad,” advised the big sailor, 
wagging his head. “Nothing will bite yuh around 
’ere.” 


THE. PAPER CHASE 


37 


Whistler then explained that Belding had 
agreed to drop bits of paper by which they might 
follow his trail, and this encouraged them all. 
Near the rock and the hollow in which Whistler 
himself had seen the spy change his clothes they 
found no sign of either Belding or the Hun. 

The latter must have carried his bundle of 
clothing with him when he moved from this spot. 
It was some minutes before Ikey's sharp eyes 
descried the first handful of torn paper which 
George Belding had dropped. 

“Here’s the trail !” he shouted. 

“Hush up, youngster!” commanded A1 Tor- 
rance. “Want to tell everybody all you know?” 

“And it wouldn’t take him long at that — unless 
he stuttered,” said Frenchy, pounding Ikey be- 
tween the shoulders. 

“Oi, oil I forgot,” explained Rosenmeyer, 
hoarsely. “Let up, Mike Donahue ! Who are 
you taking for a bass drum ?” 

“Come on now, fellows,” Whistler said, leading 
the way. “Keep together and try to make as little 
noise as possible. We don’t know how near that 
spy may be.” 

He had already found the second bunch of torn 
paper. Torry, walking close behind him, asked : 
“Will you know, that German if you see him, 
Whistler?” 

“Sure. He’s dressed like one of these farmers 


38 


THE PAPER CHASE 


or drovers. But he’s got a goatee and a little 
moustache. He doesn’t look German at all.” 

“You lads just point ’im hout to me !” grumbled 
Willum Johnson, walking next in line after Torry. 

They got into a piece of woods after a little, 
finding that the paper trail led along a well de- 
fined path. Whether the German spy knew, or 
did not know, this part of England, he seemed to 
have a direct object in view, if George Belding’s 
trail was a thing to judge by. 

This wood was nothing like the ordinary woods 
the American boys were used to around Seacove. 
It was cleared out like a grove, all the dry limbs 
lopped off the trees and stacked in certain places 
for firewood, and even the hedges thinned out for 
the same purpose. 

“Why,” A1 Torrance said, “we’d burn all that 
stuff as rubbish, wouldn’t we, Whistler ?” 

“And that/' agreed his chum, unpuckering his 
lips, “is why firewood at home is worth twenty 
dollars a cord.” 

“Wot’s that?” gasped Willum Johnson. “Four 
pun a cord ? My heye ! hit’s no wonder there’s so 
many millionaires in Hamerica Ye 'ave to be a 
millionaire to live there — eh, wot ?” 

“Right you are, man,” said Al. “Hi ! where’s 
the next bunch of paper, Whistler ?” 

It seemed that the trail of paper fragments 
stopped abruptly. The party scattered through 


THE PAPER CHASE 


39 


the wood, searching thoroughly for yards on 
either side of the path. 

“Perhaps he ran out of paper,’* suggested 
Frenchy. 

Whistler, who was ahead, suddenly came to 
the edge of a hollow — a steep fall of some ten or 
a dozen feet. He parted the bushes and peered 
down into this hole. Then he uttered a startled 
cry that brought the others to the spot on the run. 


CHAPTER V; 


THE TRICKSTER 

“Easy, boy!” A1 Torrance advised, hearing 
Whistler’s cry of surprise. “Want to give us away 
to that Heinie if he is in hearing?” 

But Whistler Morgan, after his startled ex- 
clamation, burst through the bushes and hurried 
down the bank of the hollow. A figure lay at 
the bottom — a figure dressed in a blue smock, 
loose trousers, heavy shoes and a cap. The cap 
was pulled down over the person’s face, and he 
was tolled sideways so that Whistler could not 
distinguish a feature. 

There was, however, something besides these 
points that had caused Whistler’s ejaculation and 
excitement 

“Cracky!” gasped Al, remembering the descrip- 
tion his chum had so recently given of the disguise 
the German spy had donned. “Is that the fellow ? 
And who triced him up that way? Looks like 
somebody has been ahead of us.” 

The other two Navy Boys and Willum Johnson 
joined Al Torrance at the top of the bank. They, 
too, saw the huddle figure below over whi^ 
Whistler was standing. 


40 


THE TRICKSTER 


41 


“Oi, oi !” exploded Ikey characteristically. 
“They got him tied up ready for the spit yet.’' 

“Is that the bloomin' spy?” growled the big 
British seaman. “Let me get me 'ands on ’im.” 

“Easy, Bill,” said A1 Torrance. “You know 
what that brass hat said about your bringing the 
spy in alive.” 

“Hi wouldn’t kill ’im— now I’m cooled hoff,” 
the ex-coster declared. “But ’ee won’t get awye 
from hus — no fear !” 

Whistler had not joined in this conversation. 
He turned the body over and Frenchy uttered an 
ear-piercing yell : 

“What do you know about that?” he added. 
“It’s George Belding !” 

“Say !” growled Al. “They could hear you on 
the Colodia. If that spy is here ” 

“He’s got far enough away by this time!” 
Whistler exclaimed, swiftly getting out his knife 
to cut Belding’s bonds. 

The latter was gagged most cruelly with a stick 
tied between his jaws. So far had the stick been 
thrust into tlie lad’s mouth that the corners were 
cracked and bleeding. Whistler cut away his 
friend’s gag first of all. 

“The nasty villain!” cried Willum Johnson. 
“ ’Ow did ’ee. do hit?” 

“Are yoa hurt, George?” demanded Morgan. 

“I’m bumped some/" admitted the other Amt- 


42 


THE TRICKSTER 


ican lad. “But I’m hurt most in my dignity,” and 
he tried to grin. 

“The scoundrel cut your lips with that stick,” 
said A1 Torrance. “Where did he go?” 

“Ask me something easier. I only know he 
went — and if he kept on the way he started he’s 
a long way from here by now.” 

“But where are your clothes ?” demanded 
Whistler Morgan. 

“What do you think?” cried Belding. “The 
dirty Heinie is wearing them!” 

*^Good-nightr gasped Frenchy. “Is it a U. S. 
sailor he wants to be?” 

“Tell us I” commanded Whistler earnestly. 

“Why, you see,” Belding responded, getting up 
now after having rubbed his chafed ankles, “it 
was like this : Just as soon as you got out of sight, 
Morgan, the Heinie began to travel. I started 
right after him, and he came down here into this 
wood. I believe I wasn’t very smart — or he was 
smarter than I. Guess that is pretty well proved 
isn’t it ?” and Belding smiled wryly. 

“I had in mind all the time that he had two 
pistols under this smock he wore, so I tried not 
to attract his attention. You can see I failed in 
my attempt.” 

“How did it happen?” Whistler asked. 

“I stepped on a stick. I suppose that was what 
put him wise to me. Anyway, the stick cracked- 


THE TRICKSTER 


43 


I jumped behind a tree. I could see him ahead of 
me in the path and he did not turn his head or 
apparently hear the crackling stick. But he must 
have been sharper than I thought.” 

“These ’ere ’Uns,” declared Willum Johnson, 
“is hup to all sorts o’ tricks.” 

“He was a trickster, all right,” agreed George 
Belding, with much disgust in his tone of voice. 
“I followed right along like the idiot I was, and 
all of a sudden the fellow disappeared. I thought 
he had moved faster, so I went faster.” 

“And then what?” asked Al. 

“I came up to the tree he was hiding behind, 
and he stepped out and stuck one of those pistols 
of his right under my nose!” 

“What d’you know about that?” marveled 
Frenchy. 

“Never had that happen to you, did you ?” asked 
George Belding. “It’s the funniest feeling — ^be- 
lieve me! The muzzle of the pistol was under 
my nose, but I felt it right at the pit of my stom- 
ach ! I couldn’t do a thing, of course. You see 
fellows disarm an antagonist in moving pictures 
without getting hurt, but I wasn’t going to take 
a chance. I know he would have blown my head 
off.” 

“What did he do to you then?” asked Ikey 
Rosenmeyer, his eyes big with interest. 

“He drove me before him down into this hoi- 


44 


THE TRICKSTER 


low. He had got rid of his bundle somewhere. 
I didn’t see him drop it. His uniform, you know, 
Morgan,” 
see.” 

'‘And down here he made me strip off my 
clothes — even my shoes. I tell you, I just hate that 
Heinie.” 

“That’s wot yuh wants to do,” growled Willum 
Johnson. “ ’Ate the ’Un or yuh can’t lick ’im 
proper.” 

“No fear,” said Belding, nodding. “I have 
stored up a proper hate for them now. This 
fellow is the meanest of the bunch. He got out 
of the duds I am wearing as slick as you please — 
keeping me under the muzzle of his gun all the 
time.” 

“Sounds just like a wild west movie, doesn’t 
it?” suggested Ikey. 

“Nothing so good — don’t think it,” growled 
George Belding. 

“Anyhow, he got these things off and made me 
get into them. He put on my uniform meanwhile 
— quick as a cat he is. You got a good look at 
him, didn’t you, Morgan?” 

“I’d know him again,” declared Whistler 
grimly. 

“So would I,” said Belding, shaking his head 
threateningly. “But what good is that? I bet 
we never set eyes on the scamp again.” 


THE TRICKSTER. 


15 


**My heyel” exclaimed the big British seaman, 
“let’s ’unt ’im down*” 

“He’s bad half an hour’s start,” said Belding, 
hopejessly. “And he was going some when he 
started — believe me! We’d never catch him;’ 

“ ’Ow do you know?” returned Willurn John- 
son. “T.^t’s send these little nippers,” indicat- 
ing Frenchy and Ikey, “back to the bloomin’ 
port for ’elp, hand then scour the ’ole bloomin’ 
country.” 

“We’d better all go back and report,” Whistler 
Morgan said seriously. “We fellows can’t be 
much longer ashore, Mr. Johnson. We’re due at 
the dock pretty soon.” 

“Bli’me!” exclaimed the man. “Hi’ve over- 
stayed my leave already. Hin for a penny, bin for 
a pun, say Hi !” 

But Whistler argued with him, and he became 
more reasonable. Now that the fumes of alcohol 
were out of his head he was rather a tractable 
fellow. 

“There is going to be trouble over this, ’ A1 
Torrance prophesied. “We’d better give the alarm 
in a hurry. That Hun must be captured before 
he does some damage.” 

“He can go almost anywhere in a Yankee uni- 
form — if he speaks English,” said Whistler. 

“Oh, he speaks it all right,” said^Belding. 

“Hif Hi could honly ’ave got me ’ands hon 


46 


THE TRICKSTER 


’im!” groaned Willum Johnson, shaking his 
"'shaggy head sorrowfully. 

But Belding had something very serious to say 
to Whistler Morgan as the party started to climb 
out of the wood to the top of the hill overlooking 
the port and harbor. 

“No use talking about it, Morgan,” he said, 
“but I never took my money out of my clothes. 
I had a couple of pounds besides silver.” 

“Too bad.” 

“And that is not the worst. I had papers and 
letters. Some things in the letters from my father 
I wouldn’t want many folks to see — and especially 
a Hun. Father is going to take a big sum in 
cash with him on the Redbird when he sails for 
Bahia. Gold, Morgan — thousands and thousands 
of dollars in gold coin.” 

“Whew!” 

“Some prize for a Hun U-boat ! And think of 
my folks and your sisters aboard the Redbird! 
It’s going to worry me until I know this scoundrel 
is captured and I get back my papers.” 


CHAPTER VI 


WORK AHEAD 

When the four Navy Boys and their friends 
came over the summit of the hill behind the 
English seaport which the Zeppelin had so re- 
cently raided and where it had come to grief, the 
bomb-set fires in the town had become controlled. 
Even the conflagration at the point where the 
Zeppelin had fallen was now entirely smothered. 

Fortunately neither the marine hospital nor the 
port admiral’s headquarters had been hit by the 
Hun bombs. The first named was crowded with 
refugees from merchant ships sunk by the Hun 
submarines or blown up by floating mines. Almost 
daily the remnants of the unfortunate crews were 
brought in; for by this time the Germans had 
begun shelling the boats as they escaped from 
sinking ships, striving to carry out their master’s 
orders, “that no trace be left” of such breaking 
of the international law agreed to long since by 
all civilized nations. 

But if the hospital was not hit, damage enough 
had been done in all good conscience. The crowds 
were gone from about the wrecked Zeppelin and 
from the bombed schoolhouse. The slicliing of 


47 


48 


WORK AHEAD 


open boats at sea was not a greater crime than 
the indiscriminate dropping of bombs on this un- 
fortified town; and the wiping out of that school 
teacher and her pupils could never be forgotten. 
Phil Morgan turned his eyes away from the place, 
shuddering as he thought of the horror. 

‘‘Let’s go down to the admiral’s station — there 
where his white ensign flies — and report about the 
spy escaping from us,” Whistler said. 

“And explain how he’s dressed,” A1 Torrance 
added. “For let me tell you, that chap, speaking 
English and all, and dressed like one of us Yanks, 
will cause a lot of trouble.” 

“I’d like to get something decent to put on my- 
self,” grumbled George Bdding. 

“Tee, hee!” giggled Ikey Rosenmeyer. “You 
don’t look any more like one of these farmers 
than nothin’ at all!” 

“Must say,” grinned Whistler, “the clothes 
don’t become you, George.” 

“You go fish!” snapped the unfortunate. “I 
hate to show up aboard and face — who’s your 
boss. Lieutenant Commander Lang, isn’t it?” 

“Cracky! Yes,” A1 said. “And you are billed 
for the old Colodia? Say, the boys will give you 
a welcome !” 

“How did you come to get billeted to the 
Colodia Whistler Morgan asked curiously. 
“You came over on your father’s yacht?” 


WORK AHEAD 


49 


“No,” said Belding, quietly. “I didn't say that. 
I joined the crew of the one-time Siriiis because 
when I arrived in England your old Colodia was 
out scrapping with the part of the Hun fleet that 
tried to make a break.” 

“Oh, yes,” said Whistler. “We were in that 
flght ; but we were on the Kennehunkf^ 

“And our gun made the first hit and we sunk 
a Hun battleship!” cried Al. 

“Huh !” scoffed Frenchy, “you listen to Al and 
Whistler, and you’d think their old gun fought 
the whole battle.” 

“Did you fellows really help work a gun in that 
fight?” cried George Belding, in amazement and 
admiration. Even the giant British seaman gazed 
at the Navy Boys with increased respect. 

“We were in the fight, and we belonged to one 
of the gun crews,” admitted Whistler. “But we 
are willing to agree that we did not do it all. 
Frenchy and Ikey were there.” 

Belding laughed. “Well, let’s go along to the 
admiral’s, and I’ll tell you how I came to get bil- 
leted on the Colodia. Uncle Sam is training more 
men than he has boats for — ^yet. But the Colodiafs 
lost several of her crew, hasn’t she, from one 
cause or another ?” 

“Of course. And are you a ‘filler-in’?” said 
Whistler. 

“Guess so. I came over expecting to go right 


50 


WORK AHEAD 


aboard the destroyer, as I say. But I had to wait 
for her to come back from the North Sea. And 
there was the old Sirius, with a chap in command 
that I knew. So I got a chance to take a trip. We 
took out a convoy bound westward; and on the 
way back we had a scrap with a sub.’^ 

‘‘Did you sink her?” asked Frenchy eagerly. 

“We did something to it. The boys said they 
knew she was a goner. Oil and litter rose to the 
surface after we dropped a depth bomb. I’m sorry 
for her crew; but they are in bad business.” 

“Don’t yuh be too bloomin’ sorry for the filthy 
’Uns,” growled Willum Johnson. 

“Say, Big Bill,” sang out Frenchy, “don’t you 
be so bloodthirsty. You are a regular tiger — to 
hear you talk.” 

“Don’t forget them school kids down there,” 
replied the man, shaking his head. 

Whistler had hoped to put the memory of the 
innocents butchered by the Zeppelin out of his 
memory for a few minutes. He shuddered, and 
led the way into the head of one of the steep 
streets, lined on either side by white painted cot- 
tages. 

The streets leading down to the harbor were 
so steep that A1 said he always felt like putting 
out his hands to brace himself against the walls 
of the little houses as they went down. 

The boys grew silent when they heard the weep- 


WORK AHEAD 


51 


ing and wailing from inside the houses. Here the 
children had lived who were so mangled in the 
explosion of the Hun bomb. The destruction 
below in the middle of the town could not have 
been so bad, for there were few women and 
children there. This was not market day. 

It scarcely seemed possible that the raid should 
have been accomplished and done so much damage 
ashore three hours before. The harbor lay peace- 
fully enough now in the last light of the setting 
sun. The ships of the merchant fleet, all camou- 
flaged most fantastically, lay swinging at their 
moorings. There were several gray cruisers and 
a number of destroyers, for this was a busy port. 
Both foodstuffs and troops were landed here. The 
destroyers were all so painted that one could 
scarcely be distinguished from another. Only the 
four Navy Boys knew just where the Colodia was 
anchored. 

The party arrived at the admiraFs station and 
were stopped by the sentinel at the gate. The 
admiral was not at his desk, for he was out view- 
ing the damage the bombs had done, and to inter- 
view the prisoners brought in. 

But there was an officer who heard the boys’ 
report and thanked them for what they had tried 
to do. George Belding gave a complete descrip- 
tion of the daring spy who had landed from the 
Zeppelin. It was pretty sure that he and Whistler 


52 


WORK AHEAD. 


Morgan would know the fellow if they ever came 
face-to-face with him again. 

The ex-coster would have to face punishment 
when he got aboard his ship. 

^‘Hit^s me for the dungeon,” was the way he 
expressed his expectation of spending some time 
in the ship’s brig. ^^Good-bye, lads,” he said on 
parting from the Americans. ‘‘Yuh’re a bloomin’ 
bunch o’ sports, that’s wot’ yuh his. There’s no 
manner o’ doubt you Hamer icans is hall right.” 

‘/And you are all right. Bill, when you are 
sober,” George Belding said rather grumpily. ‘T 
hope I’ll never meet you again when you have 
been indulging in liquor.” 

He said this with feeling; but Big Bill only 
grinned. “You’ll ’ave to visit me haboard ship, 
lad,” he said, shaking his head. “Wot’s bred hin 
the bone his bloomin’ ’ard to change, hand don’t 
yuh forget hit !” 

George Belding merely grunted. He was in no 
pleasant mood because of the “hick” costume, as 
Frenchy called it, which he was obliged to wear 
aboard ship. The ridiculous garments and shoes 
occasioned much hilarity when they reached the 
Colodiafs launch. 

“Hey ! what you got there ? Going to bring a 
cow along for him to milk?” was the jocular 
demand. 

Isa Bopp, who would never be anything but a 


WORK AHEAD 


53 


greenhorn himself, no matter how long he was at 
sea, demanded: 

“Where did you fellers pick up that farmer ?” 

“Farmer yourself !” whispered Ikey behind the 
sharp of his hand. “It’s the port admiral in dis- 
guise. He’s going aboard to see Commander 
Lang on a secret mission. Something big’s com- 
ing off, Isa.” 

“There’ll be something big come off when he 
shucks them shoes,” chuckled Bopp. 

Meanwhile Phil Morgan was explaining to the 
petty officer in charge of the launch just who 
George Belding was, and how he came to be with- 
out a uniform. Belding would otherwise have 
had trouble getting aboard the Colodia, without 
his papers that the spy had run away with. 

The Ipiterers were soon brought in by the guard 
and the launch put off for the destroyer. It was 
dark when they arrived at the Colodia. Ensign 
MacMasters, the Navy Boys’ very good friend, 
was at the gangway, and he passed Belding on 
Whistler’s word. Phil and the new boy went at 
once to Commander Lang. 

It was eight bells, and the anchor watch was 
just being mustered. There was no searchlight 
or signal drills on this evening because of the air 
raid. There might be other Zeppelins in the fog 
that hung over the sea. 

The boys coming aboard at once swung their 


54 


WORK AHEAD 


hammocks and had a chance before the first call 
at 8 :55 to visit around with their friends and swap 
experiences. Of course, everybody was excited 
over the air raid ; but nobody had been in the thick 
of it as had Philip Morgan and his chums. 

As there is no smoking allowed below the main 
deck after 7 :30 p. m. the lads could gather on the 
berth deck and talk until the first anchor watch 
was set. Then the thrill of the boatswain’s pipe 
called for silence on the berth deck and the boys 
that were not on watch or already in their ham- 
mocks prepared swiftly to be under covers when 
taps was sounded at five minutes past nine. 

But on this night, almost immediately after nine 
o’clock, there was a chattering of the wireless. 
The boys on watch saw the messenger dash along 
the deck from the wireless station with the mes- 
sage for the commander. 

A murmur passed from group to group about 
the main deck of the destroyer. It even seeped 
below, and the boys who were not yet asleep heard 
the whisper. 

Orders ! Something of moment afoot that had 
not been expected; for the Colodia was not sup- 
posed to leave port till the next day. 

Whistler, whose watch it was, almost stumbled 
against Ensign MacMasters in the waist of the 
ship. It was the ensign’s own fault, for he was on 
the starboard side. 


WORK AHEAD 


55 


“Hello, my boy !” he said to Phil. “Heard the 
news 

“I know there is news, sir,” said Whistler. “But 
I don't know what it is.” 

“You'll all know soon. We'll up anchor and 
sail in half an hour. Orders from the port ad- 
miral. He has got information from the pris- 
oners that there may be another Zeppelin fallen 
in the sea outside. They saw her fall, and it may 
be possible for us to rescue some of her company.” 

“More of the baby-killing Heinies?” exclaimed 
Whistler. 

“Ah, well, we have to be merciful,” said the en- 
sign. “They were obeying their orders. We 
must obey ours.” 

“But you know, Mr. MacMasters,” said Mor- 
gan earnestly, “if our superiors ordered us to 
commit the crimes the Huns commit, there would 
be mighty few of us who would obey orders.” 

“Aye, aye, my lad,” sighed the older man. 
“But remember we have not lived under Prussian 
masters all our lives. We have different teaching 
and different ideals, thank God ! ' 

In ten minutes the whole ship's company was 
making ready for departure. 


CHAPTER VII 


ON THE GREY WATERS 

For the most part the American destroyers on 
duty in British and French waters were doing 
patrol service, scouting over designated areas in 
quest of enemy submarines, meeting and escorting 
troop and merchant ships into port, and on occa- 
sion, when the SOS calls came, rushing to the 
aid of torpedoed or of mined craft. 

Even during the short experience Philip Mor- 
gan and his chums had had on the Colodia, they 
had often seen the wreckage-littered waters where 
ships had gone down and men and women had 
suffered exposure in lifeboats. 

The destroyer had roared through the grey 
seas, in fog and gale and darkness, in answer to 
the tragic calls for help. Never, since men went 
down to the sea in ships, had there been such 
adventure on the waves as in those years of the 
World War. 

For never before had the shark-like submarine 
abounded nor the airplanes swept overhead, both 
carrying death and destruction. When the Colodia 
left port her crew had small surety that they 
would return. This present night call was a new 
one for them. 


56 


ON THE GREY WATERS 


57 


The crew of the supposedly wrecked Zeppelin 
had been possibly five hours in the sea when the 
captured Germans told of their comrades’ fate. 
The British port admiral had communicated with 
Commander Lang’ within a few minutes of his 
hearing the tragic tale. 

There was perhaps a particular reason why the 
order to find the wreck of the Zeppelin and her 
crew (if they were not drowned) was given to 
one of the American destroyers instead of to a 
British patrol boat. 

After all, the Yankees could not feel the same 
degree of bitterness and hatred of the Hun and 
his works as the British sailor did. The murder 
of the school children and their teacher was known 
to every British sailor in the port. To their 
horror was added personal bitterness. And this 
order sent the Colodia on a mission of mercy ! 

“The best I can hope for them,” said Morgan 
to George Belding, who had been placed in Whist- 
ler’s watch and had donned such uniform as the 
master-at-arms could supply him, “is that they 
will all be comfortably drowned before we find 
any trace of the Zep. That maybe is wicked ; but 
it is the way I feel.” 

“That would be better than they deserve,” 
Belding agreed. “Just think what that spy did to 
me!” 

He was still very much disturbed in his mind 


58 


ON THE GREY WATERS 


regarding the loss of his letters and valuable 
papers. 

'‘Why, you can’t tell, Phil,” said he, "what the 
Huns might try to do. If they read father’s let- 
ters and learned about all that gold ” 

"You really mean the Redhird will take out 
treasure to Bahia?” asked Whistler in great con- 
cern. 

"Yes. More gold coin than there is any use 
talking about,” whispered Belding. "Father knew 
I would be interested in all the details, so he told 
me. 

"And my sisters and your mother and Lilian 
going along!” sighed Whistler. 

"Nice mess, isn’t it?” groaned the other. "That 
spy will make use of the information sure! — if 
he can.” 

"When will the Redhvrd sail ?” 

"Next month, some time. Of course. I’ll try to 
send father word about this. But you know what 
the censor does to a fellow’s letters. And to cable 
would be worse.” 

"Wait a minute!” cried Whistler. "That spy 
couldn’t benefit very well by the information him- 
self. He’s here in England and your father’s 
ship will sail from New York, won’t it?” 

"I suppose so. From 'an Atlantic port’ You 
know, that’s as near as they would let him tell in 
a letter. And don’t worry about the Huns not 


UJ>' I HE GREY WATERS 


59 


being benefited by the information. They’ll find 
some way. They have wireless stations along 
our United States coast. And every U-boat car- 
ries a wireless.” 

“So do our subs,” Whistler rejoined. “But 
they are of small radius. The English coast is 
cleaned out of Hun radio stations.” 

They have ’em on the islands off Ireland and 
Scotland,” returned Belding. “That spy is some 
smart chap, Phil. I’m awfully worried. I’ll write 
father, of course, as clearly as the censorship 
will allow. But it may be too late. The Redbird 
may have sailed — or a U-boat may sink the mail 
ship.” 

“You don’t want to lose your courage over it,” 
advised the Seacove youth. “We mustn’t expect 
the worst. Of course, with Phoebe and Alice 
aboard I shall be worried until we hear that they 
have arrived safely at Bahia.” 

“And it takes a long time for a sailing ship to 
reach that place from our North Atlantic sea- 
ports,” responded Belding. 

They talked thus in whispers while hanging to 
a wire stay. The Colodia was running without 
lights, every inboard lamp carefully screened, 
although the night was black. Before Whistler 
and Belding went off watch it had begun to rain, 
and a fierce, chill wind was blowing. The sea 
was beginning to kick up, and a sailor had to be 


60 


ON THE GREY WATERS 


a good acrobat to get into his hammock on the 
destroyer. 

The new watch went on deck in rubber boots 
and slickers, and the gun crews, who were always 
on duty at sea, day or night, sought such cover 
as they could find. It was a nasty voyage, and 
they were not inspired with the thought that they 
might be able to save the Germans’ lives. 

The bearings of the spot where the second 
Zeppelin had fallen had been given to the port 
admiral and by him transferred to Commander 
Lang with precision. It was a long run to this 
point, the boys knew. The destroyer could not 
possibly make the point indicated before daybreak. 

Yet most of the younger members of the crew, 
whether it was their call or not, were up in season 
for five o’clock coffee. The excitement grew as 
the light became stronger and more could be seen 
of the gray, tossing sea. 

It was a bad lookout for rescuing anybody. 
To put out a boat in such a sea would be a task 
that the hardiest of the Colodia's crew shrank 
from. Now and then a comber rose over the de- 
stroyer’s rail and tried to wash her deck. But 
the thousand-ton fast steamer escaped most of 
these ‘‘old he waves” as Boatswain Hans Hertig 
called them. 

Hertig was from Seacove, too, and was a par- 
ticularly good friend of Whistler and his chums. 


ON THE GREY WATERS 


51 


“Seven Knotf’ was his nickname aboard the 
Colodia, and the boys had had many adventures 
afloat and ashore in his company. 

“I ain't got much use for them squareheads," 
Hans declared, “and after what they done back 
there, I dunno as these fellers, what would have 
done the same had they reached land, should be 
helped yet." 

“Not much likelihood of our finding them at 
all," one of the other men said. “Ten hours in 
the water now ! And the bag of the Zep is bound 
to fill with water and sink the whole framework. 
Those Heinies will be kicking about in pretty wet 
water." 

This was the attitude of most of the crew ; yet 
there was great curiosity among them to see what 
was left of the Zeppelin that had fallen into the 
sea. Commander Lang conferred with the navi- 
gation officer and his other chiefs. The Colodia 
had reached the spot indicated in their orders 
from the port admiral. 

Now all they could do was to sweep in circles 
about the designated place and keep an extra 
sharp lookout. 

In fact, every man who could get on deck was 
watching the tumbling seas for any sign of wreck 
or castaway. After all, as the minutes passed and 
nothing at all was descried where they had ex- 
pected to find survivors of the Zeppelin, even the 


62 


ON THE GREY WATERS 


roughest members of the crew stopped growling 
about “the Heinies.” 

It was one thing to give vent to the bitterness 
they felt against the Germans in speech, it was 
another thing to think of those fourteen or sixteen 
men struggling for so many hours in the icy 
water, and finally being drowned so miserably. 

The hammock Stowers had just stopped down 
the hammock cloths and the boys had got their 
mess gear preparatory for breakfast at 7 :30 A. M. 
when there came a hail from the mast. One of the 
lookouts had descried something in the east. He 
pointed, and excitedly yelled his directions to the 
watch officer. 

The Colodia's engines began to speed up. When 
she went her full thirty-odd knots her hull shook 
as though she would rattle to pieces. The life 
of a destroyer in such work as the Colodia had 
been doing since she was launched, can be only a 
few months. Commander Lang was already talk- 
ing to his officers of the time when she would 
have to be scrapped. 

Meanwhile her record would amply repay the 
Navigation Bureau for building her. There was 
no doubt of that. 

Now she pounded away at top speed for the 
point where the lookout had seen something afloat 
on the tumbling seas. All through this trip, not 
only the destroyer’s commander, but many of the 


ON THE GREY WATERS 


63 


more thoughtful members of the crew, had half 
suspected a German trick. 

It would not be outside of possibility, or prob- 
ability, for the crew of the Zeppelin brought down 
ashore to send a rescue ship to sea into a trap 
arranged with the usual German ruthlessness. It 
was possible that there had been no second Zep- 
pelin at all, but that the Colodia was steaming at 
her best pace to a rendezvous with a U-boat pre- 
pared to torpedo her. 

Tricks quite as vile had been played before by 
the Hun. Commander Lang, with his binoculars 
to his eyes, got the spot on the sea that the lookout 
had observed and kept his glasses trained there. 
It certainly was not a periscope they saw, yet it 
might be some wreckage held together for the 
special purpose of masking a periscope. 

The gun crews were at their stations and the 
men handling the depth bombs were ready on 
either side, and fore and aft, to drop the deadly 
explosives if it was found that the Colodia had 
run into a trap. 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE YANKEE WAY 

The sharp hull of the three hundred foot de- 
stroyer cut through rather than rode the waves. 
She was seaworthy enough, but in a cross sea like 
this, she rolled and dipped tremendously, as well 
as bucking right through the combers after the 
fashion of a pilot fish. One had to be well sea- 
soned to her habit to stand such a tumbling about 
as the Colodia gave her crew. 

If George Belding felt any qualms, he was able 
to repress them. He was a good sailor anyway, 
and having just come from a stiff cruise in the 
Bay of Biscay in his father’s transformed yacht, 
he proved himself to be a tolerable seaman. 

Belding was a manly fellow without being as 
rough as many of the sailors. Like the four Navy 
Boys, he was greatly interested by the view they 
all acquired very soon of the floating debris that 
had first been spied from the mast. The distance 
being so great, they could not immediately be sure 
whether the wreck was that of a boat or an air- 
ship. It was at first merely a blotch of darker 
color on the tumbling grey sea. 


64 


THE YANKEE WAY 


65 


“Looks more like a dead whale with a frame- 
work of scantling about it than anything else/' 
Ensign MacMasters told the boys. 

“It might be a whale at that/' commented A1 
Torrance eagerly. “They say that many a whale 
has been killed by depth bombs." 

“Hi!" ejaculated Frenchy Donahue. “There's 
a flag flying from a staff. I can see it." 

“No dead whale would be likely to fly a flag," 
Whistler said, smiling. 

“Commander Lang had better have a care," 
grumbled George Belding. “This may be a trap, 
after all." 

The Colodia steamed on at undiminished speed. 
The outlines of the wreckage grew clearer despite 
the raging rainstorms that swept now and then 
across the gray waves. 

The vast hulk of a collapsed bag of silk cloth — 
it was never canvas — could have belonged to noth- 
ing but one of the German airships. 

“Half sunken Zep, sure as you are a foot high !" 
declared A1 Torrance. 

“No argument on that score," admitted another 
of the boys. “Do you suppose any of the poor 
chaps can be alive?" 

“ Toor chaps' is good!" growled Al. “Like 
Willum, the coster, I don't believe in wasting sym- 
pathy on 'the 'Un.' " 

The dashing rain and spray almost blinded at 


66 


THE YANKEE WAY 


times the Colodia's boys, but they searched the 
remains of the wrecked dirigible keenly as the 
destroyer drew nearer. 

Now and then a great wave dashed completely 
over the twisted framework and sprawling bag 
of silk cloth. And, yes ! over several specks that 
were apparently lashed to the wreckage. These 
specks were bodies of men, whether dead or alive 
could not at first be decided with the wind driving 
the spindrift head-on. 

Commander Lang discussed the situation with 
his chief officers amidships. How could they 
reach the wreck of the Zeppelin under such 
weather conditions as these? Scarcely could a 
boat live in such a sea ! 

‘‘I’ll order no boat’s crew out into such a mess 
as that,” said the commander, with a gesture in- 
dicating the gray, leaping waves. “And I hate to 
ask for volunteers when those people out there 
are what they are. It is hardly possible for the 
boys to think of them as human beings. They are 
set aside from us ; they belong to another race — 
a race that has shown neither mercy nor com- 
passion.” 

“It will have to be volunteers, if anybody,” 
said one of the other officers. “But I’ve a wife 
and children. If I am ordered. I’ll go. But no 
volunteering to get those Huns, for me!” 

Among the crew the indications were that they 


THE YANKEE WAY 67 

felt about the same as the officers. Said Hans 
Hertig : 

“Who would volunteer to save them square- 
heads yet ? Not me !” 

“What would they do if they were in our 
place?” another of the seamen asked. “They can 
watch women and babies drown ! Why should we 
worry about them?” 

“Because we’re Americans, I suppose,” said A1 
Torrance gravely. “It’s not done any more — not 
by real folks. Yankees to the rescue, old man! 
Somebody’s got to go and pick those Heinies off 
like ripe blackberries off the vine.” 

But more than a few of the seamen shook their 
heads and said “Not me!” 

Of course, volunteers had not yet been asked 
for, nor did anybody seem to know just what 
course should be pursued in striving to rescue the 
crew of the Zeppelin. Whistler Morgan and 
George Belding, standing well forward, looked 
long and earnestly at the imperiled men on the 
wreck, then they looked into each other’s faces. 

“What do you think?” Belding asked, his lips 
making no sound that Phil Morgan could hear, 
but his words easily read by Whistler. 

“If the Colodia shoots beyond the wreck?” 
asked Whistler, moving his lips in the same way 
so that George could read what he said. “I could 
drift down to it with the current.” 


68 


THE YANKEE WAY 


“In a boat?” asked Belding doubtfully. 

“With life buoys,” Whistler explained. 

Belding understood the scheme and nodded. 
Whistler said : 

“I’ll speak to Mr. MacMasters.” 

He went aft immediately to find the ensign. 
Finding Belding close at his shoulder, Whistler 
said: 

“You don’t need to get into this, George. What 
would your folks say?” 

“Just about what yours will say if you chuck 
your life away for the sake of a lot of Heinies,” 
returned Belding briefly. “You can’t do it alone. 
It will take two of us to fasten each Heinie into 
the buoy so he can be dragged back to the ship.” 

“You’ve got the right idea,” agreed Phil, and 
turned to speak to Mr. MacMasters. 

“What do you two chaps want to do — throw 
your lives away for scum like them?” was the 
ensign’s first comment upon Whistler’s proposal. 

MacMasters had risen from the forecastle him- 
self, having won his billet by hard work. He was 
apt to look upon most things from the sailor’s 
standpoint. The crew of the Colodia had already 
seen enough of the despicable work of the Hun to 
hate almost with the intensity of Willum Johnson. 

“They have to be saved, haven’t they?” Whist- 
ler asked quietly and respectfully. 

“But why should you do it?” rejoined Mac- 


THE YANKEE WAY 


69 


Masters, who really loved the lad and feared for 
his safety. “Those men over there are not worth 
it.” 

''We are worth it, sir,” put in George Belding 
with earnestness. “Phil has the right idea, and 
I want to help him. One fellow can’t do it alone, 
anyway.” 

MacMasters threw up his hands in a helpless 
gesture. “Of course,” he grumbled, “I’ll take 
your proposal to Commander Lang,” and strode 
away toward the bridge. 

“Whistler’s suggestion was in line with what 
the chief officers had already seen must be done. 
“If those lads demand the privilege, I will not 
stop them,” said the Commander. “They are 
both smart and well set-up boys. But I wish some 
of the older men had come before them. In a case 
of this kind, it’s ffirst come, first served.’ Tell 
them to make ready, Mr. MacMasters. And I 
adjure you to take care that they have proper 
help.” 

When Mr. MacMasters brought back the word 
Whistler Morgan and George Belding at once 
prepared to put their idea into practice. But the 
Colodioi had yet to steam past the mass of wreck- 
age that had been the Zeppelin. There were nine 
men lashed to the half sunken framework. Feeble 
gestures from some of the figures showed they 
were alive. 


70 


THE YANKEE WAY 


As the destroyer drew so near and the sorry 
state of the Germans was made apparent, the 
Americans grew silent. There were no more 
curses for the Huns. The most bitter suddenly 
thought of the castaways in different mood. Those 
were dying men lashed there to the sorry wreck 
of the Zeppelin. 

Word swiftly passed all over the ship that 
Morgan and Belding were about to make an at- 
tempt to rescue those of the castaways who were 
still alive. A1 Torrance came raving to his chum 
and wanted to know what it meant — why he was 
left out of it? If Whistler Morgan was going to 
risk his “fool neck to rescue a parcel of Huns, 
(so he put it) why couldn’t he be in it?” 

“You can, old man,” said the wise Whistler. 
“You are just the fellow I want to hang on to 
the life buoy line and pay out for me. My life 
will be in your hands. Catch hold here !” 

A1 grumbled some, but did as he was bid. Cold 
as it was, the two boys making the attempt to 
reach the wrecked Zeppelin stripped to their 
underclothes. The Colodia had passed the wreck, 
and now swerved so that the current would carry 
the two venturesome lads straight down upon the 
wreck. 

The two buoys were flung overboard, and Mor- 
gan and Belding slipped down the ropes and 
plunged into the sea. The first shock of it was 


THE YANKEE WAY 


71 


tremendous. It seemed as though the water would 
freeze the blood in their veins and the marrow in 
their bones. 

But they cheered each other, each diving and 
coming up within the ring of the buoyant life 
buoy assigned him. A1 and others payed out care- 
fully but swiftly. All realized how icy the waters 
were. This rescue — if it was to be successful — 
must be made in quick time. 

The two rescuers whirled down upon the wreck. 
The framework was raised high upon first one 
wave and then another. There was danger of its 
parting and carrying away the men lashed to it. 
Phil Morgan and Belding knew that they had to 
do their work swiftly if they would accomplish 
the task they had set out upon. 


CHAPTER IX 


'"SCHMARDIE^" 

The Colodia was drifting more than a cable’s 
length from the wreck of the German airship that 
had fallen into the sea. Philip Morgan and George 
Belding were some minutes in dropping down to 
the wreck, each upborne by his life buoy, the lines 
of which were payed out by their comrades on 
the destroyer’s deck. 

The ropes soon grew very heavy and had the 
ship been much further away the two boys would 
have found the life rings of little aid to them. 
However, when the waves swept them against the 
twisted framework of the Zeppelin, they were 
still held well above the surface of the sea and 
were able to seize parts of the wreckage. 

Whistler signaled those on the Colodia to cease 
paying out. Then he turned to look up at the 
struggling men above his head. George Belding 
cried : 

“All right, Phil?” 

He bawled the query so loud that Whistler 
heard him above the noise of the sea and the 
creaking of the wreckage. 


72 


‘SCHMARDIE 


73 


‘‘Hunky-dory !” he returned. He pointed above, 
and Belding could easily read his lips : “Which 
of these Heinies shall we get first?” 

One man was already letting himself down 
toward the rescuers. By the trimming on his uni- 
form the American boys were positive he was 
an officer — ^perhaps the commander of the Zep- 
pelin. 

“Tell that fellow to pass down those who are 
injured,” Whistler yelled so that his friend could 
hear him. “I believe he’s going to try to hog 
one of these buoys !” 

Belding put up a hand to stop the German. 
The latter addressed the two American lads in 
English. 

“I am Herr Hauptman von Hausen. I am in 
command. Will your comrades draw me aboard 
in the bight of that rope?” 

“Not now, mein Herr,” shouted Whistler. 
“You’ve got gall to want to leave your comrades 
who may be helpless! Get some of them down 
here — ^and have a care that you do help them, too, 
or I’m not so sure that you will ever get to the 
destroyer at all!” 

“Impudence ! I shall report you to your com- 
manding officer,” declared the Zeppelin’s captain 
fiercely. 

“Believe me!” exclaimed Whistler, “that will 
do you a lot of good. Look out for this fellow. 


74 ‘‘SCHMARDIE’ 

George! Let’s see that he is hauled in last just 
for that.” 

‘I’m with you,” agreed the othef American. 
“Can you reach that young chap just above your 
head ? I believe he’s got a broken arm.” 

Whistler had managed to climb out of the sea 
and stood upon one stay, clinging to another. 
Now he reached up to aid the fellow George Beld- 
ing had spoken of. The German was no older 
than the lads from the destroyer — a thin, pale 
fellow, his face drawn with pain, and his left 
arm strapped clumsily to his side. 

“He’s got a broken arm, all right,” Whistler 
shouted. “When I pass him down, George, do 
you unbuckle his belt and fasten him with it to 
the ring. Then he won’t be swept away, even if 
he has but one hand to cling with. All ready?” 

“Here, you!” exclaimed Belding, addressing 
the “Herr Hauptmann” in no respectful tone. 
“Lend a hand, will you? If you don’t I’ll cut you 
adrift.” 

Belding had out his knife to cut a lashing and 
he looked as though he would carry out his threat. 
The Zeppelin commander slid down the stay and 
aided in lowering the younger German out of the 
wreck. 

In five minutes they had him lashed as Whistler 
suggested to the life buoy, and the young German 
was on his way to the destroyer. A third inflated 


^SCHMARDIE 


75 


ring had been floated down to the tangle of debris 
drifting in the rising sea. Both Morgan and 
Belding were aware that they must work rapidly 
if they would save those of the Germans who were 
still alive. The wreckage was shifting from mo- 
ment to moment. One body suddenly plunged 
beneath the tossing waves, but the Americans 
knew that the victim was already dead. 

The men beside the captain had cut themselves 
loose and crawled down to the level of the sea. 
These two the rescuers sent away clinging to one 
of the inflated rings, for they could both handle 
themselves pretty well. But they kept Commander 
von Hausen until the first life buoy was emptied 
and was sent back again. 

The four bodies left above were not all of live 
men ; the boys were sure of that. And when they 
had got the first quartette of castaways started 
for the destroyer, Belding climbed up to cut away 
the nearest man. He was very weajc, and after he 
was loosened from the stays he proved to be 
unable to help himself. 

The situation of the •two boys from the de- 
stroyer was now becoming very precarious indeed. 
They could not hajig on here for much longer 
themselves. 

“One of us will have to go back with this fel- 
low,” declared Belding. “You take him, Phil. 
I am in better shape than you are..” 


76 


‘^SCHMARDIE 


“Who told you so?” demanded the Seacove 
boy. “You take him. I’ll get that other fellow 
up there and follow you. A1 and the others are 
floating another buoy down to us.” 

“No,” said Belding. “I’ll lash this fellow here 
and he’ll have to take his chance until we get his 
mate. Those two beyond are dead, aren’t they ?” 

“Sure,” returned Whistler. “Poor things ! 
Just think of their hanging on here for so long.” 

“Oh, yes,” growled Belding, but with some 
scorn. “You can see just how much good it’s 
done that captain.” 

They were close together or they could not 
have heard each other speak. The wind shrieked 
and the waves roared, making a chorus of sounds 
that well nigh drowned their voices. 

With great difficulty they brought the second 
man down. Then, having lashed each sufferer 
to a life buoy, Whistler Morgan and Belding set 
out to swim beside them to the destroyer. 

The waves were much higher now and the two 
lads were not so strong as when they had come 
out to the Zeppelin. They never could have 
reached the Colodia without help, and, withal, 
they were pretty well exhausted when they were 
drawn to the side of the pitching destroyer. 

Cheers greeted them. The crew was generous 
always in acknowledging the individual bravery 
of its members. However, when it was all over 


^^SCHMARDIE 


77 


and Phil and Belding had been treated by the 
doctor and were betwee^n blankets, Frenchy was 
inclined to “josh” a little. 

“By St. Patrick’s piper that played the last 
snake out of Ireland !” he cried, “it will keep you 
broke for polish to shine up all your medals, 
Whistler. If Commander Lang reports this to 
the port admiral, you and Belding will g^ some 
junk to wear on the proud young chests of yez! 
And there’s the medal ye got, Whistler, for grap- 
plin’ wid the depth bomb and sub chaser Three 
Eights!” 

Whistler tossed a boot at his tormentor’s head, 
but Frenchy dodged it and escaped from the sick 
bay where the doctor had ordered Morgan and 
Belding to remain for the time being. They were 
kept there with the German lad with the broken 
arm until the next morning, when tlie friends 
were ordered to appear before Commander Lang. 
The latter said with a quizzical smile : 

“I hear a bad report of you young chaps on 
one point. The Herr Hauptman Frederich Wil- 
helm von Hausen says you were not sufficiently 
respectful to him.” 

“We weren’t, I guess,” admitted George Beld- 
ing. “How about it, Phil ?” 

“I am afraid we did not pay sufficient atten- 
tion to his High Mightiness, sir,” rejoined Mor- 
gan. “You see, sir, we sent the wounded boy 


78 


^SCHMARDIE 


over first. That captain was in too big a hurry/' 

'‘Yes. Well," drawled the commander, “I sup- 
pose I shall have to pass this complaint along to 
the proper authorities. But I believe I can con- 
gratulate you two lads on drawing down the 
United States gold life saving medal for your act. 

“You, Belding, have made an excellent mark 
for yourself on joining the Colodia. We already 
knew what sort of metal Morgan was built of. 
Thank you, my lads ! If the surgeon gives you a 
true bill, you may turn to with your watches." 

The boys saluted and departed for their sta- 
tions. The destroyer was making for port and 
the headlands were visible. But the storm had 
not blown over and the ship was rolling forty-five 
to fifty degrees. If an ordinary merchant ship 
rolls forty degrees her crew think that the end 
has come and they will be wrecked ; forty degrees 
is ordinary for a destroyer to roll in the sea. 
Often moving about the Colodia was almost like 
climbing a sheer wall. 

The two boys who had done so brave an act 
the day before were commended on all sides; but 
their mates’ approbation took the form of good 
natured joking, for which both Morgan and Beld- 
ing were thankful. 

They heard much comment regarding the Ger- 
man captives from the other members of the 
crew. Especially did they learn certain things 


‘SCHMARDIE* 


79 


about the youth with the broken arm whom they 
had first sent off to the destroyer from the wreck 
of the Zeppelin. 

He was named Franz Eberhardt, and he was 
in the sick bay instead of being confined with the 
other prisoners. Hear Hans Hertig rail about 
him: 

‘That feller is a schmardie — one o’ them Ger- 
man schmardies what you hear about. I would 
like to have him workin’ on this Colodia, We 
would work some of the schmardness out of him 
yet.” 

“What’s the matter with him, Boatswain?” de- 
manded A1 Torrance. 

“Huh! He tells me the Germans ain’t begun 
to fight yet ! Sure ! They will lick all the world 
— let him tell it. He iss one Prussian.” 

Phil Morgan got a chance to go down to the 
sick bay and interview the young prisoner. The 
latter knew that Morgan was one of those who 
had rescued him and his mates; but there was a 
certain arrogance about his manner and speech 
that was not likely to make him friends among 
his captors. 

“Aren’t you worried about your position at 
all?” asked Whistler, when they had talked for 
some tirre. 

“Me?” repeated the German in very good Eng- 
lish. “Why should I fear? I am an Eberhardt. 


80 ^^SCHMARDIE’ 

My uncle lived long in England and has friends 
there. I shall make friends. The English do 
not dare treat us Germans badly, for they know 
that in the end they will be beaten and we will 
punish them severely if they treat prisoners un- 
kindly. Oh, yes!” 

‘‘Say!” drawled Whistler, “where do you get 
that stuff? You must have caught it from that 
von Hausen. He wanted to push you out of the 
way and take your place in the life buoy.” 

“Yes,” admitted the German youth simply. 
“He is Hauptman. Why not?” 

*'Good~nightr growled Whistler. “Our offi- 
cers don’t do that. They would consider it be- 
neath them to be saved before their crew.” 

Eberhardt, who was sitting up, shrugged his 
shoulders. “Yes ?” he repeated. “But of course, 
they are not gmdige Herren** 

“That means ‘noble sirs’,” scoffed Whistler. 
“No, thank heaven, we do not have such a caste 
as that in America!” 

“You have some very rich men — ^very rich. I 
have heard my cousin Emil say. He knows many 
of them. Many are from German blood. Of 
course, when we finish the war, they will create 
a caste, as you call it, in your United States. 
Cousin Emil says ” 

“Who is your Cousin Emil?” demanded Phil 
Morgan more amused than angered after all, 


^SCHMARDIE 


81 


by this kind of talk. “Is he in the States now ?” 

“Not yet,” said young Eberhardt, slyly look- 
ing at his inquisitor. “But he is going.” 

“Before the war ends? Not much chance of 
that.” 

“Poof!” rejoined the German youth. “You 
cannot stop Emil. What he wants to do, he does. 
He is a great man. He has been decorated by the 
Emperor.” 

“What department does he fight in?” 

“Ah, he is greater than a fighter,” said young 
Eberhardt, shaking his head. “He goes hither 
and yon — where he chooses. In France, England, 
Italy, and now to your country, America.” 

“A spy?” growled Morgan. 

“Call him as you like. Cousin Emil is a won- 
aerful man. Why, to fly from our bases in Bel- 
gium to this England is nothing to Cousin Emil. 
He has so traveled a dozen times. But this was 
my first trip.” 

“You were not traveling with your cousin in 
that Zep, were you?” 

“Ah, no. You say our sister Luftshiff — she 
is fallen?” 

“Smashed all to pieces,” declared Whistler with 
satisfaction. “And her crew prisoners — all but 
one. 

“Ah !” breathed Eberhardt, slyly smiling again. 
“And he who escaped?” 


82 


**SCHMARDIE 


“What do you know about him V* asked 
Whistler in surprise. “That fellow is a spy I 
bet I He was not a regular member of the Zep’s 
crew.” 

“No? You saw him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Is he a man with a very sharp eye, a mous- 
tache like our Emperor, a tiny beard here?” 
touching his lower lip. 

“That's the fellow !” cried Whistler. “Do you 
mean to say he is your cousin Emil, and a spy?” 

“Oh, no, my friend,” chuckled the “schmardie.” 
“Oh, no. I do not say that. I merely say that 
man with the little beard on his lip — a goatee, 
do you call it? — ^plays the cornet. You know, 
most cornet players r.ear the little goatee, isn’t 
it so?” 

Eberhardt laughed again and wagged his head, 
refusing to say more. As for thanking Whistler 
for what he and Belding had done toward saving 
his life, such a thought never seemed to enter 
the German youth’s mind. 


CHAPTER X 


THE TERROR OF THE SEAS 

Phil Morgan, on thinking over the conversa- 
tion with Franz Eberhardt, was not at all sure 
that he should have discussed the wreck of the 
other Zeppelin so freely with the prisoner. Yet 
Eberhardt was a prisoner, and was not likely to 
be in a position to use any information he might 
have gained to benefit his nation for a long time 
to come. If Eberhardt’s cousin was a spy, per- 
haps this young chap was one too. 

The hint Franz had dropped about the man 
who had escaped from the Zeppelin that had 
been brought down on land, Whistler passed on, 
through the proper channels, to the commander 
of the destroyer. He could do no more than that. 
Possibly the man who had tied up George Belding 
and escaped in the latter’s clothes, might be the 
“Cousin Emil” of whom Franz was so proud. 

The Colodia steamed into the port at which she 
was stationed to find the convoy and most of the 
naval vessels cleared out to accompany the mer- 
chant craft. The American destroyer would be 
held for any emergency call and there would be 
no present shore leave for her crew. 


83 


84 


THE TERROR OF THE SEA 


Phil received a long letter, one long delayed, 
from his sister Alice. The whole story of how 
the Beldings had come to invite Whistler’s two 
sisters to accompany them to Bahia was here set 
forth, and the young fellow’s mind was much 
relieved when Alice assured him that even the 
suggestion of the voyage had so delighted Phoebe 
that she already showed improvement in her 
health. 

Kind words from many neighbors and friends 
were included in the letter for the other Seacove 
boys. Of course, Alice did not know at the time 
of writing that George Belding was booked for 
a billet on the Colodia, too, or she would have 
sent a message to him. 

No thought that the Redhird might come to 
grief on her voyage to the South American port 
seemed to trouble Alice Morgan’s mind when she 
wrote to her brother. At that time it was thought 
all German raiders and U-boats were driven from 
the Western Atlantic waters. 

However that might be, the Huns were active 
enough in the waters through which the Colodia 
plied. It was only two days after Whistler and 
George Belding had saved the living remainder 
of the Zeppelin crew when an S O S call was 
picked up by the port wireless station and trans- 
mitted to the destroyer. It was possible that the 
ship in peril was too far away for the Colodia 


THE TERROR OF THE SEA 


85 


to be of service; nevertheless she started out of 
the harbor within ten minutes of the reception of 
the aero plea for helpi 

The weather was rough, and the ship barely 
dropped the headlands below the horizon at sun- 
set. They were bound, doubtless^ on a useless 
night trip. And yet, such ventures were a part 
of the work of the destroyers and must be ex- 
pected by their crews. 

When night had fallen there was only a pale 
radiance resting on the sea while broken wind 
clouds drove athwart a gray and dreary sky. No 
stars were visible. From behind the weather 
screen of the bridge, where the two watch offi- 
cers were stationed, nothing could be seen ahead 
but the phosphorescent flash of waves otherwise 
as black as ink. These flashes, where the waves 
broke at their crests, decreased rather than aided 
the powers of vision. 

The crew of the Colodia were by this time so 
well used to their work that there were few 
false alarms as the ship tore on through the dark 
seas. Such errands as this were part of the ex- 
pectation — almost of routine. The destroyers at 
i.ight fairly ‘‘smelled” their way from point to 
point. 

Now and then a porpoise shot straight toward 
the Colodia, leaving a sparkling wake so like that 
of a torpedo that the lookout might be excused 


86 


THE TERROR OF THE SEA 


for giving a mistaken warning. But the men 
knew the real thing now, and the gunners did not 
bang away at fish or floating debris as they had 
in the beginning. 

‘‘Why, even Isa Bopp has not for a long time 
raised a flivver,” said A1 Torrance, discussing 
this matter with George Belding and Whistler. 
“And Ikey has stopped straining his eyes when 
he’s oft duty. One time he would have hollered 
‘wolf’ if he’d seen a dill pickle floating three hun- 
dred yards off our weather bow.” 

“That’s all right,” said Whistler. “But Ikey 
won the first gold piece for sighting a German 
sub when he first went to sea on this old knife- 
blade. He’s got eyes for something besides dill 
pickles, has Ikey.” 

The crackling radio was intercepting mes- 
sages from other ships — all kinds of ships. The 
SOS call was no longer being repeated ; but the 
Colodiafs officers had learned the position of the 
vessel that called for help at the start, and the 
destroyer did not swerve from her course. She 
roared on through the dark sea directly for the 
spot indicated. 

“There’s nothing fancy in this job, George,” 
Phil Morgan said to their new chum. “Nothing 
like a good, slap-dash battle with the Hun fleet, 
such as we had a few weeks ago, or even chasing 
a Hun raider out of Zeebrugge, or Kiel. But the 


THE TERROR OF THE SEA 


87 


old Colo dm has had ‘well done’ signaled her by the 
fleet admiral more than once.” 

“You bet!” A1 Torrance put in. “We’ve sunk 
more than one of the U-boats. We’re one of 
‘the terrors of the sea,’ boy — like the song tells 
about. That is what they call our flotilla.” 

“Ah! I’ve heard all that before,” Belding said, 
in some disgust. “I want to see action !” 

As it chanced, he saw action on this very cruise. 
First, however, came the conclusion of the inci- 
dent that had brought them out of port, chasing 
a phantom SOS. 

A light burning low on the water was spied 
about ten' o’clock. It could be nothing but an 
open boat, and the Colodia's prow was turned 
more directly toward it. The sea was really too 
rough for a submarine to be awash, yet the Huns 
had been known to linger in the vicinity of their 
victims so as to catch the rescuing vessel unaware. 
A sharp lookout was maintained as the Colodia 
steamed onward. 

The torch in the open boat flared and smoked, 
while the boat pitched and tossed — seemingly 
scarcely under command of its crew. There was 
no sign of any other craft in the vicinity. The 
signal from the attacked ship having stopped 
hours before, without much doubt she had sunk. 

And but one boat remained ! 

The destroyer sped down within hailing dis- 


88 


THE TERROR OF THE SEA 


tance of the open boat, burning signals of her 
own meanwhile. Getting on the weather quarter 
of the castaways, the latter were ordered to pull 
to the Colodia. 

The boat held only nineteen survivors of the 
Newcastle Boy, a collier that had been torpedoed 
by a submarine. There had been a second boat, 
and both had been shelled after the collier sank, 
and the mate, w’ho was in command of these 
rescued castaways, feared his captain’s boat was 
utterly lost. Had the sea not been so rough, he 
said, the Germans would have succeeded in sink- 
ing his boat, too. 

Whistler was on duty amidships and he over- 
heard much of the report made by the collier’s 
mate to Lieutenant Commander Lang and the 
conversation among the officers thereon. 

He was particularly impressed by the inquiries 
the destroyer’s commander made regarding the 
nature of the attack, the type of U-boat that did 
the deed, and similar details. 

A close track was kept of all these submarine 
attacks. The methods of certain submarine com- 
manders could usually be traced. These reports 
were kept by the British Admiralty and were 
intended, at the end of the war, to assist in identi- 
fying U-boat commanders who had committed 
atrocities. Those men should, in the end, not 
escape punishment for their horrid crimes. 


THE TERROR OF THE SEA 89 

This attack upon the Nezw:astle Boy had been 
particularly brutal. There were four wounded 
men in the mate’s boat. If the captain’s boat 
were lost, the missing would total twenty-six. 

The Colodm, swinging in wide circles through 
the rough sea, remained near the scene of the 
catastrophe until morning. They discovered no 
trace of the sunken ship, although the mate de- 
clared she had gone down within a mile of the 
spot where the destroyer had picked up the sur- 
vivors. 

But at daybreak the watchful lookouts did spy 
a broken oar and part of the bow of the captain’s 
lifeboat — its air-compartment keeping it afloat. 
No human being was there to be seen, and the con- 
clusion was unescapable that the Hun had done 
his best to “sink without trace” another helpless 
boat’s crew. 

It was mid-afternoon, however, before the 
Colodia left the vicinity of the tragedy. There 
was a desire in the hearts of her crew and officers 
to sight the submarine that had committed this 
atrocity. 

Finally, however, the American naval vessel 
was swung about for port and began to pick up 
speed. These destroyers never seem to go any- 
where at an easy pace ; they are always “rushed” 
in their schedule. 

Having given up hope of catching the particular 


90 


THE TERROR OF THE SEA 


submarine that had sunk the Newcastle Boy, the 
Colodic^s lookouts did not, however, fail to watch 
for other submersibles. Men stationed in the 
tops, on the bridge, and in both bow and stem, 
trained keen eyes upon the surrounding sea as 
the destroyer dashed on her way. 

Ikey Rosenmeyer and his special chum, Prenchy 
Donahue, were in the bows on watch. Even those 
two “gabbers,’’ as A1 Torrance called them, knew 
enough to keep their tongues still while on duty ; 
and nobody on the destroyer had keener vision 
than Ikey and Prenchy. 

Almost together the two hailed the bridge : 

“Off the port bow, sir!” while Ikey added: 
“Starboard your helm!” 

A great cry went up from amidships. The 
Colodia escaped the object just beneath the sur- 
face by scarcely a boat’s length. Men sprang 
to the depth-bomb arms and the crews to their 
guns. 

But it was not a submarine. A great wave 
caused by the swift shifting of the Colodia’ s helm, 
brought the object almost to the surface. 

“A mine !” roared the crew. 

The destroyer’s speed was slackened instantly. 
She swung broadside to the menace. A few 
snappy commands, and two of the deck guns 
roared. 

Instantly a geyser of water and smoke rose 


THE TERROR OF THE SEA 


91 


from the sea. The explosion of the mine could 
have been seen for many miles. Had the de- 
stroyer collided with it 

‘We’d have gone to Davy Jones’ locker, sure 
enough, fellows,” said A1 Torrance. “Those 
mines the Huns are sowing through these seas 
now would blow up the Brooklyn Bridge. Sup- 
pose the Leviathan, troop ship, scraped her keel 
on that thing?” 

There was much discussion all over the de- 
stroyer about the mine. It suggested that the 
submarine that had sunk the Newcastle Boy might 
be a mine-sower. That fact would help identify 
the submarine, for all types of German submer- 
sibles are not fitted with mine wells. 

“You see how it is, George,” said Phil Morgan 
to their new chum. “These seas around here are 
just as safe as a powder factory — ^just about! 
How does it make you feel ?” 

“Pshaw!” returned Belding, “didn’t I tell you 
we almost caught a sub when I was out on the 
Sirius? I don’t believe the Heinies have got so 
many of ’em, after all.” 

“Never you mind,” said Whistler. “They’ve 
got enough if they have but one, believe me! 
Just think how we fellows used to gas about sub- 
marines and all that. Before the war, I mean! 
We never dreamed any country would use them 
as the Germans have.” 


92 


THE TERROR OF THE SEA 


The tone of the whole crew after the narrow 
escape from the mine was intense. They were on 
the lookout for almost anything to happen. Be- 
fore mid-afternoon, while still out of sight of 
land, the top hailed the deck officers. 

“Steamer in sight, sir!” 

The position and course of the stranger was 
given, and immediately everybody who had 
glasses turned them in the indicated direction. 
The destroyer’s course was changed a trifle, for 
everything that floated on the sea was examined 
by the Allied patrol. 

Soon the high, rusted sides of an ancient tramp 
steamship hove into the view of all. She was a 
two-stack steamer, and despite her evident age 
and frowsiness she was making good time toward 
the Thames. 

“Taking a chance,” Ensign MacMasters said to 
Whistler and his friends. “That is what she is 
doing. She’s not even camouflaged. Her owner 
has found some daredevil fellows to run her and 
will make a fortune in a single voyage — or lose 
the ship, one or the other. Great gamblers, some 
of these old ship owners.” 

“Gamblers with men’s lives,” said George 
Belding. “I should know. My father is in the 
business; but he does not take such chances as 
that.” 

“Not even with the Redbirdf” whispered | 


THE TERROR OF THE SEA 


93 


Whistler anxiously. “I don’t know about Phoebe 
and Alice sailing on her.” 

‘‘Oh, pshaw! there’s no danger over yonder,” 
declared George. “We’ve driven all the Huns 
from the Western Atlantic.” 

“Hope so,” returned Whistler. 

Just then a cry rose from some of the men on 
deck. The destroyer was near enough to the tramp 
steamship now to observe what went on aboard of 
her. They saw men running about her deck. 
Then followed the “Bang! Bang! Bang!” of her 
deck guns. 

The guns were aimed for the far side of the 
tramp — ^the object they were aiming at being out 
of sight. But the destroyer’s crew knew what 
that fusillade meant. 

“A sub ! She’s got a sub under her guns !” was 
the yell that rose all over the Colodia. 

Swift orders from the bridge and instantly the 
destroyer shot ahead like a mettlesome horse 
under spur and whip. 


CHAPTER XI 


ACTION 

If action was what George Belding craved, 
he was getting it. Everybody aboard the United 
States destroyer Colodia was on the alert as the 
craft leaped ahead to full speed for the spot 
where the rusty-sided tramp steamship was pop- 
ping away with her deck guns at some object as 
yet not in view from the destroyer. 

The merchant ship was being conned on a 
zigzag course, evidently in an attempt to dodge an 
expected torpedo. Her hull hid whatever she 
was shooting at from the crew of the Colodia; 
but the latter did not doubt the nature of the big 
ship’s erratic course. 

At top speed the Colodia rushed to the fray, 
and on suddenly rounding the stern of the tramp, 
a great shout rose from the boys ranged along 
the destroyer’s rail : 

“There she is!’^ 

The cry was drowned by the salvo of guns 
discharged at the conning tower of the German 
submersible, not more than a thousand yards from 
the tramp ship. The position of the German 


94 


ACTION 


95 


craft had been excellent at first for a shot at the 
merchant vessel; but her first torpedo had evi- 
dently missed its objective. Now with the de- 
stroyer in view, the Hun let drive a second missile 
and then began to submerge. 

The torpedo’s wake could be seen by the look- 
outs oil the Colodia the instant it left its tube. 
The tramp vessel evaded the explosive ; but the 
destroyer was directly in the torpedo’s path. 

There was real danger at this moment. Quickly 
swerved as she might be, it was not at all sure 
that the Colodia could escape the torpedo. Every 
man and boy aboard was at his station; among 
them A1 Torrance was placed at the starboard 
rail. He was armed, like many of his mates, with 
a rifle. 

As the destroyer shot across the path of the 
torpedo Torry fitted the butt of his rifle into the 
hollow of his shoulder, huddled his cheek against 
the stock, and brought the cross-sights of the 
rifle full upon the sharklike projectile. 

The rifle report was almost instantaneous with 
the roar of the torpedo. The latter blew up not 
twenty yards from the destroyer’s rail ! 

‘‘Hi! Hi! Hi!” yelled the mates of the keen- 
sighted Torrance. 

“Well done!” called the officer of the watch 
through his megaphone. “Well done, Torrance!” 

The whole crew cheered again, and Al’s flaming 


96 


ACTION 


face acknowledged their appreciation. Mr. Mac- 
Masters came quickly to wring the lad’s hand in 
appreciation. 

''Good for you, Torrance,” he said. "Your 
name goes down on the log for that.” 

"Aw, she wouldn’t have hit us anyway,” said 
Al, quite overcome by so much praise. 

"Never mind. It showed accurate marksman- 
ship and good work, too. Those autoprojectiles 
are dangerous to leave drifting about the seas. 
You get a good mark, my boy.” 

Meanwhile the Colodia, swerving not a hair 
from her course, reached and overran the spot 
where the submersible had sunk. The order rang 
out and the depth bomb was dropped. Then the 
destroyer scurried out of the way to escape the 
effect of the deep-down explosion. 

Up from the depths rose a mound of muddy 
water. It rose twenty feet above the surface, and 
the spray shot twice as high. The thundering ex- 
plosion shook the running destroyer in every part. 
The effect of the discharge upon what was under 
the sea must have been terrible. 

Half a mile away the Colodia swerved and 
circled, to pass again over the spot where the 
bomb had been dropped. The boys leaned over 
the rails to watch for anything in the water that 
might prove that the submarine had been wrecked. 


ACTION 


97 


There was not a bit of wreckage; but suddenly 
Ikey Rosenmeyer shrieked : 

‘‘Oil! Oil! Oh, bully! Oil!” 

A roar of other voices took up the cry. Great 
bubbles of oil rose to the surface. The Colodia 
passed over a regular ‘‘slick” of fluid that could 
mean nothing but that the tanks of the sub- 
mersible had been ripped open by the explosion 
of the depth bomb. 

Morgan found George Belding standing beside 
him and looking back at the oil-streaked waves 
with a very serious visage. 

“What’s on your mind?” asked the Seacove 
lad. 

“It seems terrible, doesn’t it, Phil?” said Beld- 
ing. “All those fellows ! Gone like thatT and he 
snapped his fingers. 

“Well,” returned Whistler, “you wanted 
action, didn’t you? Now I guess you’ve had 
enough for a while.” 

“I believe you,” agreed his friend solemnly. 

But the work and life of the boys on the de- 
stroyer was not altogether made up of such scenes 
and incidents as these that have been related. Just 
at this time the troop ships were coming across 
from America in great convoys and the Colodia 
sometimes had less than half a day in port be- 
tween trips. Four or five hours ashore in the 
English port, or at Brest where the greater num- 


98 


ACTION 


ber of ships from America landed their freight 
and human cargoes, was the utmost freedom that 
the Navy Boys and their mates secured. 

There were extra calls, now and then, like these 
which have been related herein. When an S O S 
call is picked up by shore or ship radio, every 
Naval vessel within reach is sure to make for the 
point of peril. 

The life was not altogether exciting, however, 
for there were many days of tedious watching 
and waiting in which it seemed that the Hun 
boats had all scurried back to their bases and the 
patrols scarcely raised a porpoise, much less one 
of the ‘‘steel sharks of the sea.” 

At Brest, well along in the month following 
the introduction of George Belding to the Colodia, 
the young fellow from New York got a cable- 
gram from his father mentioning the date of the 
Redhird's sailing for Bahia with his own family 
and Philip Morgan’s sisters aboard. 

Whether the treasure of gold coin was to be 
part of the ship’s burthen or not, the cablegram 
did not state. George had written his father 
about his lost letters and papers and of the proba- 
bility that the knowledge of the treasure would 
reach those Germans who would consider the ship 
bound for South America, and all stie carried, 
their legitimate prey. 

If information of the treasure of gold coin had 


ACTION 


99 


been sent by the spy from the Zeppelin to his 
associates in the United States, there might be 
already afoot a plot to get possession of Mr. 
Belding’s gold. The boys of the Colodia had not 
heard of the capture of the spy who had disap- 
peared in George Belding's uniform, Much as 
they had inquired in England, they had been able 
to learn absolutely nothing. 

Phil Morgan had even been to see Franz Eber- 
hardt at the port hospital where the young Ger- 
man was confined while his arm was being skil- 
fully treated by the English surgeons. Later the 
German youth had been taken to an internment 
camp in one of the back shires. Before he had 
gone Whistler had tried to get him to talk again 
about “Cousin Emil.” But Franz had become 
wary. 

He was no longer acting “the schmardie,” as 
Hans Hertig had called him. He had begun to 
see something of England and had learned some- 
thing of the character of the English. To be a 
prisoner, and well treated as he was, was a much 
more serious situation than had at first appeared. 

But he refused to say anything at all of Cousin 
Emil. Whether it really was Franz Eberhardt's 
cousin with whom the Navy Boys and “Willum” 
Johnson had had their adventure, the fact re- 
mained that as far as the boys Knew, a German 
spy was at large in England. Ana he had infor- 


100 


ACTION 


mation in his possession that might possibly injure 
Mr. Belding and his affairs. 

The Seacove boys were all now interested in 
the sailing of the Redbird. If Whistler's two 
sisters alone had been sailing for Bahia the others 
would have felt a personal anxiety in the matter. 

“Wish the old Colodia was going to convo)' 
that Redbird/' A1 Torrance said. “Eh, fellows ?” 

“By St. Patrick’s piper that played the last 
snake out of Ireland!” declared Frenchy Dona- 
hue, “ ’twould be the foinest of luck if she was.” 

“Oi ! oi 1 Ain’t it so?” murmured Ikey. “And 
that Alice Morgan such a pretty girl ! I hope that 
Redbird gets to Bahia safe.” 

“As far as we can hear,” said Whistler cheer- 
fully, “there are neither submarines nor raiders 
now in the Western Atlantic. They seem to have 
been chased out, boys.” 

This supposition, however, did not prove to be 
founded on fact; for on the very next occasion 
that the Colodia was in the French port, Brest, 
there was much excitement regarding a new Ger- 
man raider reported to have got out of Zeebrugge 
and run to the southward, doing damage on small 
craft along the French coast. This was before 
the British Captain Carpenter with the Vindictive 
bottled up that outlet of German ships. 

Some denied that it was a raider at all, but a 
big, new submarine that was built with upper- 


ACTION 


101 


works to look like a steam carrier when she was 
on the surface. However, she had a name, it 
being the Sea Pigeon, instead of a letter and num- 
ber. The whole fleet of destroyers was soon on 
the lookout for this strange vessel, and the Ameri- 
can commanders offered liberal rewards to the 
owners of the sharp eyes who first spotted the new 
Hun terror of the seas. 

The Colodia went to sea to meet a new convoy 
from America, ‘‘all set'' as the boys said, to make 
a killing if they "ran across the Sea Pigeon. 

“Well, we got the Graf von Posen,” Ikey 
Rosenmeyer said, with cheerful optimism, “so 
why not this here Pigeon ship? We're the boys 
that bring home the bacon, aren't we?" 

“Aw, Ikey !" groaned Frenchy Donahue. “Can't 
you ever forget you were brought up in a delica- 
tessen shop ? ‘Bring home the bacon,' indade !" 


CHAPTER XII 


WIRELESS WHISPERS 

On duty with the morning watch, just after 
sick call at half past eight, Phil Morgan and 
George Belding met right abaft the radio station. 
There was half an hour or so before the divi- 
sions would be piped to fall in for muster and 
inspection, and the two friends could chat a 
little. 

“Well, the folks are on the sea, as we are, Phil, 
if the Redbird sailed as per schedule,” Belding 
said. 

“I sha'n't feel really happy till we hear they 
are at Bahia,” responded Whistler, shaking his 
head. 

“Right-0 ! But the Redbird is a fine ship, and 
just as safe as a house.” 

“But she's a sailing ship — and slow.” 

“Not so slow, if anybody should ask you,” 
returned Belding smiling. 

“A four-master?” 

“And square rigged. A real ship. No 
schooner-rig, or half-and-half. Captain Jim Low- 
der thinks she is the finest thing afloat. Of course, 


102 


WIRELESS WHISPERS 


103 


she is thirty years old; but she was built to last. 
Regular passenger sailing ship, with a round-the- 
world record that would make the British tea 
ships sit up and take notice. Her cabin finished 
in mahogany, staterooms in white enamel — 
simply fine!’’ 

“I didn’t know they had such sailing ships,” 
said Whistler in wonder. 

“Oh, there are a few left. The Huns haven’t 
sunk them all. Nor have the steam craft put 
such as the Redhird out of commission. You 
couldn’t get Captain Jim Lowder to take out a 
steam vessel. He abominates the ‘iron pots,’ as 
he calls the steam freighters. 

“But sailing ships like the Redhird are kept 
out of the European trade if possible. Even Cap- 
tain Lowder must admit that a sailing ship is not 
in the game of fighting subs.” 

“That is the way I feel. Wish your folks and 
mine were going south on a steamer, George.” 

“No fear. They will be all right,” was Beld- 
ing’s reassuring reply. 

“Just the same I’d feel a lot better if all the 
Hun subs and raiders were bottled up at their 
bases.” 

“By the way,” said Belding, “what do you 
think of this Sea Pigeon we hear so much talk 
about? Think there is such a craft?” 

“Why not? We know that some kind of an 


104 


WIRELESS WHISPERS 


enemy vessel slipped along south and evaded our 
patrol, leaving a trail of sunken and torpedoed 
ships behind her/’ 

“But a huge submarine, with superstructure 
and all ” 

*'That is only a guess,” laughed Whistler. “Per- 
sonally, I believe this Sea Pigeon is a raider and 
no submarine at all. A submarine of the size 
reported would use up a lot of petrol.” 

“That’s all right,” said Belding quickly. “She 
could get supplies down along the Spanish coast. 
There are plenty of people that way friendly to 
the Germans.” 

At the moment they heard the sudden chatter 
of the radio instrument. Belding turned instantly 
to put his head into the little room. The operator 
smiled and nodded to him. 

“Something doing,” he muttered. “One of you 
chaps want to take this message to the com ?” 

“Let’s have it,” said Whistler, quickly, holding 
out his hand. 

“I’d like to put on that harness myself,” said 
Belding. “We had a wireless on the roof of our 
house in New York before the war. Government 
made us wreck it.” 

“Jinks!” exclaimed Whistler, waiting for the 
operator to write out the message received and 
slip it into an envelope. “Do you know how to 
work one of these things, George ?” 


WIRELESS WHISPERS 


105 


*'1 know something about it,’^ admitted Belding. 
‘‘What's it all about ?” he asked the operator. 

“Orders for us,” said the man. “You’ll know 
soon enough. We’re due for new cruising 
grounds, boys. But keep your tongues still till 
the com eases the information to all hands.” 

He had finished the receipt and “repeat” of the 
message. Whistler took the envelope and sprang 
away with it to the commander’s quarters. 

He knew by the expression on Mr. Lang’s face 
when he scanned the message that there was 
something big in view. The commanding officer 
of the Colodia swiftly wrote a reply and gave it 
to Whistler for the radio man. Belding was still 
hanging about the wireless room. His face was 
flushed and his eyes shone. 

“Do you know what it is all about, Phil?” he 
whispered. 

“Not a thing. But the Old Man,” said Whist- 
ler, “is some excited.” 

Rumor that changed orders had reached the 
Colodia spread abroad before muster and inspec- 
tion. The usual physical drills were gone 
through while the boys’ minds were on tiptoe. 
Even the order at four bells to relieve the wheel 
and lookout startled the crew, so expectant were 
they. 

But nothing happened until just before retreat 
from drill at eleven-thirty. Commander Lang 


106 


WIRELESS WHISPERS 


then made his appearance. He went to the quar- 
ter and addressed the crew. 

“We have been honored by an order to go free- 
lancing after a suspected vessel, supposed to be 
a German raider, last and recently reported to 
be off the Azores,’’ he said. “Because we were 
successful some months ago in taking the Graf 
von Posen, we are assigned to this work.” 

At this point the crew broke into cheers, and 
with a smile the commanding officer waved his 
hand for the boatswain’s mates to pipe retreat. 

The Colodioi was at this time sailing within 
sight of half a dozen other destroyers bound out 
to pick up the expected convoy. After a little 
her wireless crackled a curt “good-bye” to her 
companions, and the Colodia changed her course 
for a more southerly one. 

The chances, for and against, of overhauling 
the Sea Pigeon were volubly discussed, from the 
commander’s offices to the galley, and everybody, 
including the highest officer and the most humble 
steward’s boy, had a vital interest in the destroy- 
er’s objective. 

To attempt to chase a ship like this German 
raider about the ocean was a most uncertain task. 

“But if the luck of the Colodia runs true to 
form,” A1 Torrance expressed it, “we shall turn 
the trick.” 

“That this Sea Pigeon is a "raider and not a 


WIRELESS WHISPERS 


107 


submarine, seems to be an established fact,” Bald- 
ing said. “Sparks got some private information 
from the raido station at the Azores and says the 
ship is a fast steamer made over from some big, 
fat Heinie’s steam yacht he used to race before 
the war. She has just sunk a wheat ship from 
the Argentine.” 

“Sparks” is the nickname usually applied to the 
radio operator aboardship, and George Belding 
was quite friendly with the chief of the wireless 
force on the destroyer. 

“George gets all these ‘wireless whispers’ be- 
cause he has a pull,” said Whistler, smiling. “If 
anything ever happens to Sparks, I expect we’d 
see George in there with his head harnessed.” 

“And it’s no bad job!” cried A1 enthusiastically. 
“I’ve often wished I could listen in on this radio 
stuff.” 

“Oi, oi ! That just goes to show the curiosity 
of you,” declared Ikey Rosenmeyer, with serious 
air. “It is a trait of your character that should 
be suppressed, Torry.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE SUPER-SUBMERSIBLE 

The boys from Seacove and George Belding — 
but especially the last and Phil Morgan — had a 
second topic of daily conversation quite as inter- 
esting, if not as exciting, as that of the German 
raider, in chase of which the Colodia was now 
driving at top-speed into the southwest. 

This topic was the fruitful one of the Redhird 
and her cruise to Bahia. If the big sailing ship 
had left New York on the date promised, then 
the Belding family and Phil’s sisters would now 
be off Hatteras — perhaps even farther south. 

“For you can believe me, Belding,” A1 Tor- 
rance declared earnestly, and speaking with all 
the sea-wisdom acquired during his naval experi- 
ence, “that Captain Lawdor would not sail right 
out across the Gulf Stream and make the Azores 
or the Canaries a landfall, as he might have done 
before Hun submarines got to littering up the 
Atlantic as they do now.” 

“We cannot be altogether sure of his course,” 
murmured George Belding. 

“Sailing vessels hate to head into the current 


108 


THE SUPER-SUBMERSIBLE 109 

of the Gulf Stream/’ added Whistler, likewise in 
doubt. 

‘‘You chaps are determined to expect the very 
worst that can happen, aren’t you ? Like a fellow 
going to have a tooth extracted,” said Al, with 
disgust. “Now, listen here ! It stands to reason 
that news of this new raider, the Sea Pigeon, or 
whatever it is they call her, was transmitted to 
the other side of the periscope pond. George’s 
father and the captain of the Redhird would be 
warned before they sailed from New York of this 
new danger — if not afterward, by wireless. Of 
course the ship has a radio plant, hasn’t she ?” 

“Of course,” agreed the shipowner’s son. 

“Nuflf said! They never in this world, then, 
would take the usual course of sailing ships for 
South America. They would not cross the Gulf 
Stream. It will take the Redhird a little longer 
to buck the northerly set of the current ; but that 
is what Captain Lawdor will do, take it from me ! 
I figure they are now about off Hatteras, follow- 
ing the usual course of the coasting vessels.” 

“Not much leeway for a big sailing ship,” mut- 
tered George. 

“Better hugging the shore, even stormy old 
Hatteras, which we know something about, eh, 
fellows?” added Al, “than dodging subs and 
raiders out in the broad Atlantic.” 

He had an old chart and was marking off the 


no 


THE SUPER-SUBMERSIBLE 


possible course of the Redbird with a lead pencil. 

“Good work, Torry,” said Frenchy Donahue. 
“It's navigation officer you’ll be next.” 

They were all five deeply interested, and each 
day they worked out the probable course of the 
sailing ship, as well as figuring the distance she 
probably had sailed during the elapsed twenty- 
four hours. 

“I only hope,” George Belding said, “that we 
overtake this Sea Pigeon and finish her before 
her commander takes it into his head to steam 
across the ocean to the western lanes of travel. 
If the raider should intercept father’s ship ” 

“Ah, say !” cried Frenchy, “that ‘if’ is the big- 
gest word in the language, if it has only two 
letters. Don’t worry, Belding.” 

That advice was easy to give. George and 
Whistler remained very anxious, however; in- 
deed, they could not help being. Nor did the 
activities aboard the destroyer during the next 
few days much take their thought ofiP the Redbird 
and her company and cargo. 

They talked but little — even to their closest boy 
friends— ^about the possibility of there being a 
great store of coined gold aboard the Redbird. 
Just the same, 'this fact they knew would cause 
the ship to be an object of keen attraction to any 
sea-'raider who might' hear of it. 

The spy from the Zeppelin had secured George 


THE SUPER-SUBMERSIBLE 


111 


Belding’s letters in which the gold treasure was 
mentioned and Mr. Belding’s voyage in the Red- 
bird explained. More than a month had elapsed 
between the spy-chase behind the little English 
port and the sailing of the square-rigged ship 
from New York for Bahia, Brazil. 

“And you know,'' George once said, “a whole 
lot can happen in a month. Those Germans have 
an ‘underground telegraph' that beats anything 
the negroes and their Northern sympathizers had 
during, and previous to, our Civil War." 

“Aw, don't bring up ancient history," growled 
Al, who tried to be cheerful, but who found it 
hard work when the older boys seemed determined 
to see the dark side of the shield. “I've forgotten 
'most all I ever knew about every wa:r before 
this one we're into with both feet — and then 
some !" 

“Sure, Torry,” put in Frenchy Donahue, “don't 
you remember the war of that showman who 
antedated Barnum — ^the one they say got a herd 
of elephants over the Alps to fight for him?" 

“Oi, oi ! Hannibal !" cried Ikey. 

“Say! it would take a friend of yours to do 
that, Frenchy," said Al in disgust. “I've always 
had my doubts about that fellow, Hannibal." 

“Besides," went on Ikey, going back to Beld- 
ing’s statement, “it's nothing to do with ‘under- 
ground' or any other telegraph. The Germans 


112 


THE SUPER-SUBMERSIBLE 


use wireless. If that spy got news across the 
pond ” 

'‘Right- 0 !” broke in George, with increased 
good-nature and an answering smile. “But let’s 
‘supposing.’ That spy has had ample time to 
transmit to friends on the other side of the ocean 
information about the gold my father is carrying 
to South America.” 

“Why,” said Whistler, slowly unpuckering his 
lips, “he might even have crossed to New York 
himself by this time — if the British didn’t catch 
him.” 

“If they had caught him wouldn’t we have been 
told ?” asked Belding quickly. 

“How? By whom?” demanded Whistler. 

“Say!” declared A1 vigorously, “the British 
War Office makes a clam look like it had a tongue 
hung in the middle and running at both ends !” 

“Now you’ve said something!” muttered 
Frenchy. 

“That’s right! The world doesn’t even know 
how many submarines have been sunk and cap- 
tured, already yet,” declared Ikey excitedly. “And 
we won't know, it’s likely, till the end of the war.” 

“What’s the odds ?” growled Al. 

“You got to hand it to them,” sighed Whistler. 
“The British have great powers of self-restraint.” 

“You said it!” again put in Frenchy. 

“Well,” Ikey said, more moderately, “if that 


THE SUPER-SUBMERSIBLE 


113 


chap that came near sending Belding here west, 
was that schmardie’s brother ” 

''Cousin!” interposed Whistler. 

"Well — anyhow and anyway — Emil Eberhardt 
— I say 1” cried Ikey, "he might have got free and 
gone over to New York by submarine, or some- 
way, like Whistler says.” 

"What do you suppose he'd do if he wanted 
to get that money off the Redbirdf” asked 
Frenchy, big-eyed. 

"Ask us an easier one,” begged A1 Torrance. 

"You kids are letting your imaginations run 
away with you,” put in Phil Morgan. 

But in secret the two older boys — Belding and 
Whistler — did not consider the idea of the spy 
reaching New York before the Redbird sailed at 
all impossible. 

That chap with the broken arm we took off the 
wrecked Zep,” Belding remarked once to Mor- 
gan, "told you his cousin, the 'super-spy,' was 
bound for America, didn't he?” 

"He dropped such a hint,” admitted the Sea- 
cove lad. "But pshaw ! we don't even know that 
Franz Eberhardt referred to the fellow we had 
our adventure with.” 

"I know! I know!” muttered George Belding. 
"But I do wish Willum Johnson, the strong man, 
had got his hands on that spy.” 

" 'If wishes were horses ' ” 


114 


THE SUPER-SUBMERSIBLE 


“Sure! And perhaps it is all right. At any 
rate, father must have got my letter before he 
sailed, in which I told him all about losing the 
papers and warning him about German plotters. 
Of course he must have got that letter.’" 

But this thought would have afforded them 
little comfort had the two friends known that the 
ship which bore George Belding’s letter of warn- 
ing had been sunk off the Irish coast by a German 
U-boat, and that that particular freight or mail 
for the United States would probably not be re- 
covered until after the war. 

The Colodia touched at St. Michael and then 
at Fayal, receiving in both ports information of 
the escapades of the new raider. Lastly she had 
been heard of far to the west. 

Perhaps she was going across the ocean to prey 
on the American coastwise trade! This was a 
suggestion that put the Seacove boys and Belding 
on edge. 

There was, however, something rather uncer- 
tain about the stories regarding the Sea Pigeon. 
Some of the merchant crews that had already 
met her, declared her to be a huge new submarine 
— a submersible that looked like a steam freighter 
when she was afloat, and that she was all of three 
hundred feet long. 

‘"Some boat, that I” observed Mr. MacMasters. 
“We’ve seen ’em with false upper works, boys. 


THE SUPER-SUBMERSIBLE 


115 


But you know, even the Deutschland was no such 
submarine as this one they tell about.” 

Whistler put forth the idea that there were 
two ships working in these waters ; but not many 
accepted this until, the day after they left Fayal, 
and the destroyer was traveling west. Sparks 
suddenly picked up an S O S from the south. 
The Argentine steamship Que Vida was sending 
out frantic calls for help. She was being shelled 
by a monster submarine two hundred miles off 
the port of Funchal of the Madeiras. 

“This is the real thing — Sea Pigeon or not!” 
the radio operator confided to George Belding. 
“She’s the super-sub weVe been hearing about. 
The operator on this Buenos Aires’ ship says she 
came right up out of the sea at dawn and opened 
fire with guns fore and aft. Has used a torpedo, 
and has upperworks like a regular honest-to- 
goodness steam freighter. 

“There ! He’s off again !” he exclaimed, as the 
radio began to spark, and he turned back to the 
machine. 

So was the Colodia off again, and at full speed, 
dashing away in quest of the Que Vida and the 
great submersible that had attacked her. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE MIRAGE 

Phil Morgan, coming up suddenly from the 
berth deck just as sweepers were piped at 5 :20 in 
the morning, fairly overturned a smaller lad who 
had been straddling the top of the ladder. 

“Hi, you sea-going elephant, you !” complained 
Ikey Rosenmeyer’s voice. “Look where you are 
going!’’ 

“ ‘Keep off the engine room hatch’,” chuckled 
the older lad, quoting one of the emphasized 
orders from the manual. “Haven’t you learned 
that yet?” 

“No more than you have learned that ‘Whist- 
ling is never permitted aboard ship’,” rejoined 
Ikey, getting up and rubbing his elbows. 

“Wasn’t whistling!” denied Morgan. 

“Well, your lips were all puckered up, just the 
same. And you know what old Jehoshaphat,” he 
observed, using the nickname for the chief mas- 
ter-at-arms, “said that time about your doing 
that. It’s just as bad to look like you were whist- 
ling as to do it.” 

“Aw, he’s deaf and was afraid I was putting 


116 


THE MIRAGE 


117 


something over on him,” Morgan declared, and 
immediately proceeded to “pucker up” again in 
a silent tune. 

It was true that Phil Morgan had received more 
than one demerit when first he had come to sea 
because of this proclivity of his for whistling. 
He had really been driven to the extremity of 
carrying a couple of small burrs under his tongue 
to remind him of the infraction of ship rules he 
was about to commit whenever he thoughtlessly 
prepared to whistle. 

The Navy Boys had had a good many rules 
besides these two quoted above to learn. And 
not only to learn, but to obey ! Excuses are not 
accepted in the Navy. Anybody who has ever 
looked through the Bluejacket’s Manual will be 
impressed by these facts. 

Every waking hour of the day has its duties 
for the men and boys aboard ship. Especially 
for the apprentice seamen class to which Whistler 
and his friends belonged. Their “hitch” was for 
four years, or until they were twenty-one. And 
the more they learned and the higher they stood 
in their various classes, the better their general 
rating would be if they enlisted for a second term. 

This last was their intention and expectation. 
They were by no means cured of their love for 
the sea or their interest in the Navy by the hard 
experiences they had suffered. 


118 


THE MIRAGE 


For that Philip Morgan and his chums had 
been through some serious experiences since the 
war began could not be overlooked. But they 
were just the sort of lads to enjoy what some 
people might consider extremely perilous adven- 
tures. 

The daily routine of duty aboard the Colodia 
at times seemed tedious; but the Navy Boys 
managed to stir up excitement in some form if 
routine became too dull. In fact, the two younger 
chums, Ikey Rosenmeyer and Frenchy Donahue, 
were inclined to be venturesome and at times they 
got into trouble with the authorities. 

This fact occasioned Whistler at this early 
hour to wonder what Ikey was doing at the head 
of the berth deck ladder. This was not the 
younger lad’s watch. He caught Ikey by the arm 
and led him to the rail. They were careful not 
to lean on the rail or on the lifelines, for that was 
against orders. 

‘‘What are you watching here for, anyway?” 
the older lad demanded. 

“For the sun,” grinned Ikey. 

“What you giving me? You don’t suppose the 
sun has forgotten to rise, do you ?” 

“Dunno. Haven’t seen him yet.” 

“It isn’t time.” 

“Well, I’m keeping my eyes open,” said Ikey 
with twinkling eyes but serious face. 


THE MIRAGE 


119 


“Shucks! What’s the game, anyway?” de- 
manded Whistler. 

“Why,” said Ikey, “the sun went down so 
blamed sudden last night that I wasn’t sure 
whether it really set same as usual, or just that 
the old fellow went out of business entirely. 
Didn’t you notice it?” 

“Ah 1” exclaimed the older lad, seeing the light, 
if not the sunlight. “Don’t you know that we 
are getting nearer and nearer to the tropics, and 
that there is mighty little twilight there ?” 

“No!” 

“Fact. Night falls very suddenly.” 

“‘Sudden!’ You said it!” ejaculated Ikey. 
“It’s enough to take your breath. I told Frenchy 
I wasn’t sure the sun would ever come up again.” 

The fingers of Dawn were already smearing 
pale colorings along the eastern sky. The two 
boys watched the growing day wonderingly. No 
two sunrises are alike at sea, and Whistler was 
never tired of watching the changing sky and 
ocean. 

This was the morning following the SOS 
call regarding the attack of the super-submarine 
on an Argentine ship. The Colodia was pound- 
ing away at a furious rate toward the place which 
the wireless had whispered ; but the spot was still 
some leagues away. 

It was a cloudy morning, the clouds being all 


120 


THE MIRAGE 


around the horizon with the promise of ck ar sky 
overhead. Windrow upon windrow of mist rolled 
up above the horizon. The light in the east was 
half smothered by the clouds. 

‘T guess the old sun will get here on the dot,” 
said Whistler, in a mind to turn away to go about 
his duties. 

“Fm going to wait for him,” said Ikey stub- 
bornly. ‘'No knowing what tricks he might play. 
Hi! Look there!” 

Whistler, as well as Ikey, suddenly became in- 
terested in what they saw upon the western sky. 
There was a stratum of cloud floating there, be- 
neath which the horizon — ^the meeting line of sky 
and sea^ — was clear. The spreading light of dawn 
imparted to this horizon line a clearness quite 
startling. It was as though it had been just 
dashed on with a brush ful of fresh paint. 

The floating cloudland was pearl gray above 
and rose pink beneath; and that streak of "fresh 
paint” on the horizon line separated this cloud- 
land from the dull blue water. 

The sun would soon pop up above the eastern 
sea line, despite Ikey’s pessimism, and his coming 
rays were already touching lightly the clouds 
above. 

"Look at that! Isn*t it great?” breathed 
Whistler. "Why, you can iust about see through 
that cloud. It doesn’t seem real.” 


THE MIRAGE 


121 


“Clouds aren’t supposed to be very solid,” 
scoffed Ikey, unappreciative of the poetry in his 
mate’s nature. “Only air and water.” 

“Huh! Two of the three principal elements,” 
snapped Whistler. “Where’s your science, smart 
boy ? And that plane of cloud ” 

“Looks just like the flat sea below it,” sug- 
gested Ikey, his interest growing. 

“You’re right, it does!” admitted Whistler. 
“See! I believe that cloud is a reflection of the 
sea beneath. I bet it isn’t a cloud at all!” 

“Then I guess I was right,” chuckled Ikey. 
“Nothing very red about it, is there ?” 

Mr. MacMasters came forward along the 
Colodiofs deck just as Ikey made this reply. He 
addressed the two friends smilingly : 

“What is all the excitement, boys? Haven’t 
spotted a submarine, have you, Rosenmeyer ?” 

Whistler turned to the ensign and waved a hand 
toward the phenomenon in the west. 

“What do you think of that out there, Mr. 
MacMasters?” he asked. 

“I am not sure, but I think we are being vouch- 
safed a sight not often noted at sea — and at this 
hour. It looks like a mirage.” 

“Oi, oi !” murmured Ikey. “I understand now 
why it looks so funny.” 

Whistler said: “Then that is a reflection of 
the sea up there in the air?” 


122 


THE MIRAGE 


“Hanging between sea and sky, yes,” said the 
ensign. “A curious phenomenon. But not, in 
all probability, a reflection of the sea directly 
under that cloudlike vision.” 

“No, sir.” 

“Probably a reflection photographed on the 
clouds of a piece of the ocean at a distance — ^just 
where one could scarcely figure out even by the 
use of the ‘highest of higher mathematics’, and 
the ensign laughed. 

“A mirage,” repeated Whistler. “Well, I 
never saw the like before.” 

“It looks just like a piece of the ocean, doesn’t 
it?” said Ikey eagerly. “But there are no 
ships ” 

He broke off with) a startled cry. Mr. Mac- 
Masters and Whistler echoed the ejaculation. 
Everybody on deck who had paid any attention to 
the mystery in the sky showed increased interest. 

Rising slowly and distinctly upon the reflective 
surface of the reflected sea was an object which 
the onlookers watched with growing excitement 
and wonder. It was the outlines of a ship — but 
not an ordinary ship! 

It had upperworks and the two stacks of a 
steam freighter. It was of the color of the sea 
itself — gray; yet its outlines — even the wire 
stays — were distinct ! 

The sea shown in the mirage had been absolute- 


THE MIRAGE 


123 


ly empty. Now, of a sudden, this ghostly figure 
had risen upon it. Whistler Morgan caught Mr. 
MacMasters by the arm. He was so excited that 
he did not know he touched the officer. 

‘‘Look at it! Do you know what it is?’’ he 
gasped. “That’s a submarine-^a huge sub- 
marine. She’s just risen to the surface.” 

“It’s the sub we’re looking for!” cried Ikey, 
hoarsely. “My goodness, see it sailing up there 
in the sky!” 


CHAPTER XV 


COMBING THE SEA 

Suddenly the red edge of the sun appeared 
above the eastern sea line. He had not forgotten 
to rise! For an instant — the length of the in- 
take of the breath the two astonished boys drew — 
the mirage painted by nature against the western 
sky was flooded with the rising glory. 

Then the wonderful picture was erased, dis- 
appearing like a motion picture fade-out, and 
there no longer remained any sign of the start- 
ling vision in the sky, save a mass of formless 
and tumbled cloud. 

‘What do you know about that?” murmured 
Ikey Rosenmeyer, in amazement. 

“You’ll never see the like of it again, boys — not 
in a hundred years,” Ensign MacMasters said 
with confidence. “That was a wonderful mir- 
age 1” 

“But, Mr. MacMasters,” cried Whistler Mor- 
gan, “that vision was the reflection of something 
real, wasn’t it? An actual picture of a part of 
the sea?” 

“So they tell us.” 


124 


COMBING THE SEA 


125 


“Where do you suppose that piece of water 
lies ?’' demanded the youth eagerly. 

“I have no idea. ‘Somewhere at sea’ ! It may 
be north, east, south, or west of the Colodia's 
present position. As I tell you, there is no means 
of making sure — that I know anything about,” 
he added, shaking his head. 

“Oi, oi !” exclaimed Ikey. “Then we don’t 
know any more than we did before where that 
super-submarine is.” 

“If that was a picture of her,” said Whistler 
thoughtfully. 

“It is truly ‘all In the air’, boys,” laughed En- 
sign MacMasters. “We saw something wonder- 
ful. Every mirage is that. But it is a mystery, 
too.” 

“Maybe that wasn’t the picture of the sub- 
marine, after all,” Ikey suddenly suggested. 
“Maybe that was the mirage of a real freighter 
we saw. Two stacks and as long as this old 
destroyer, I bet ! Maybe it only looked as though 
it rose from the sea.” 

“I’d wager money on it’s being a picture of a 
huge German submarine,” said Whistler with 
confidence. 

“Why so sure, Morgan?” asked the ensign, 
with curiosity. 

“You couldn’t see the water pouring off her 
sides as she came up in that mirage,” scoffed Ikey. 


126 


COMBING THE SEA 


“No; but another thing I did notice,” Whist- 
ler declared, answering both the doubting ones. 
“She had no flag or ensign flying!” 

“Good point!” cried Mr. MacMasters. 

“If she had been a regular steamship, no matter 
what her business might be, she would have 
shown at least a pennant. And we would have 
seen it fluttering, for there is a good breeze.” 

“Right, my boy,” admitted Mr. MacMasters. 
“I must report to the chief. But, of course, we 
can have no surety as to the direction of the craft, 
nor of her distance from us.” 

The mirage caused considerable excitement and 
a good deal of discussion aboard the destroyer. 
Aside from the more or less “scientific” explana- 
tions offered by the old-time garbies in the crew, 
Ikey Rosenmeyer suggested one very pertinent 
idea: As he had sighted the ship which two 
other witnesses agreed was a submarine, was he 
not entitled to the twenty-dollar gold piece which 
was Commander Lang’s standing offer for such a 
discovery ? 

“Catch Ikey overlooking any chance for adding 
to his bank account,” A1 Torrance declared. 
“Why, he’s got the first quarter he ever earned 
and keeps it in a wash-leather pouch around his 
neck.” 

“Bejabbers!” agreed Frenchy in his broadest 
brogue, “an’ that’s the truth. Did yez iver see 


COMBING THE SEA 


127 


the little flock of trained dimes Ikey’s got? 
Wheniver they hear the spindin’ of money min- 
tioned, they clack in Ikey's pocket as loud as a 
police rattle/' 

“You certainly can stretch the truth, Frenchy," 
admonished Belding. “Truth in your facile 
fingers becomes a piece of India rubber.” 

“Gab, gab, gab!” ejaculated Ikey, seriously. 
“It doesn't prove anything. I want to know if I 
am going to get the twenty? I saw the sub- 
marine first.” 

“A mirage,” scoffed Frenchy. 

“That's all right. It was a reflection of a 
real ship Mr. MacMasters said so. If I'd seen 
a submarine picture in a looking glass, rising 
right off yonder,” and he pointed over the rail 
of the destroyer, “wouldn't I have yelled, ‘There 
she blows !' and got the double-eagle ?'’ 

“But you gave no alarm,” grinned Al. “Did 
he. Whistler?” 

“I guess he did call the attention of an officer 
to it,” Whistler responded, with great gravity. 
“Are you going right up to the Commander with 
your claim, Ike?” 

While the boys and the rest of the crew were 
joking about the mysterious submarine, the offi- 
cers of the Colodia were seriously engaged in dis- 
cussing the immediate course of the destroyer. 
They were under orders to find the Sea Pigeon, 


128 


COMBING THE SEA 


a very fast raider; but they could not refuse very 
well to try to pick up this big submersible, if she 
could be overtaken. 

The wireless messages from the Que Vida had 
ceased hours before. That afternoon they sight- 
ed a regular flotilla of small boats on the quiet sea 
and knew at once that the submarine had again 
been at work. This time, however, the Germans 
had been more merciful than usual to the crew of 
the sunken ship. 

Nevertheless the two life crafts and four boats 
were a long way from either Fayal or Funchal. 
The sea was quiet, but the German submarine 
commander did not know it would remain so. 
He had gone directly contrary to international law 
in deserting these people. 

They proved to be the crew and passengers of 
the Que Vida, more than twenty- four hours in the 
boats. The captain had been carried away, a 
prisoner, by the huge submarine that had attacked 
the steamship from Buenos Aires. 

The story of the chief officer of the lost ship 
was illuminating. The Que Vida might have es- 
caped the Germans, being a fast vessel, had it not 
been for the fact that the former appeared to be 
a merchant ship, and flew a neutral flag, as did 
the Que Vida, 

This enabled the submersible to get within gun- 
fire range. Suddenly she revealed her guns fore 


COMBING THE SEA 


129 


and aft and threw several shells at the Argentine 
vessel. The latter was then so close that she was 
obliged to capitulate immediately. 

The German then ran down nearer and ordered 
her victims to abandon ship within half an hour. 
She sent a boat for the captain of the merchant 
vessel. 

When the boats and rafts were afloat, a boat- 
load of Germans on their way to put bombs 
aboard the Que Vida stopped and pillaged each 
boatload of victims, taking their money, jewelry, 
any other valuables they fancied, and especially 
pilfering the woolen garments of both men and 
women. 

The Qiie Vida carried some coin and her cap- 
tain was evidently made to tell of this. The Ger- 
mans searched the ship before putting the time 
bombs in her hold. 

‘Then, Sefiores,” said the chief officer, in con- 
cluding his story, “when the poor Que Vida was 
sunken, the great submarine steamed away with 
Senor Capitan di Cos. Perhaps they have killed 
him. 

“But we — Well, you see us. That gr-reat sub- 
marine is the most wonderful ship. I would not 
myself have believed she could submerge did I 
not see her go down with my own eyes not a 
mile away from our flotilla. 

“And three hundred feet long she is, I assure 


130 


COMBING THE SEA 


you ! As long as this destroyer, Senores. A so 
wonderful boat I” 

“Once we drop a depth bomb over her, we’ll 
knock her into a cocked hat, big as she is,” 
growled one of the Colodials petty officers in 
Whistler’s hearing. 

“And the captain of the Spanish ship — what 
of him?” murmured the Seacove lad. 

The taking aboard of the wrecked ship’s com- 
pany caused considerable excitement on the de- 
stroyer. These torpedo boat destroyers do not 
have many comforts to offer passengers, women, 
especially. 

“Cracky, Whistler!” observed A1 Torrance to 
his chum, “there are girls come aboard the old 
destroyer. What do you know about that?” 

“Well, the Old Man couldn’t very well leave 
them to drown, could he?” responded Morgan 
gravely. 

“Spanish girls, too. One is a beauty; but 
the other is too fat,” said Frenchy who claimed 
to be connoisseur regarding girl^ and their looks. 

“Hold him, fellows ! Hold him !” advised 
Ikey, sepulchrally. “He’ll be off again, look out 1” 

“Aw, you ” 

“Don’t forget how he fell for that Flora girl 
when we were back there in England.” 

“Shucks !” said Belding laughing. “Flora was 
the goddess of flowers.” 


COMBING THE SEA 


131 


“Ah/’ said Ikey, shaking his head, “you don’t 
know Mike Donahue. He’ll call this Spanish 
girl a goddess, yet. You just see.” 

The Colodia, however, was driven at top speed 
for the nearest port, there to be relieved of the 
shipwrecked company from the Argentine steam- 
ship. So the susceptible Frenchy was soon out 
of all possible danger. 

There was a keen desire, on the part of both 
the destroyer’s crew and officers, to overtake the 
craft that had brought the Que Vida to her tragic 
end. 

It was well established now that the big sub- 
marine and the Sea Pigeon were two different 
vessels, though they might be working in con- 
junction. But either or both of the German craft 
would be welcome prey to the United States de- 
stroyer. The latter continued her tedious work 
of “combing the sea” for these despicable enemies. 


CHAPTER XVI 


STATIONS 

Since sailing out of Brest and before receiving 
her special orders by wireless telegraph, the 
Colodia had made no base port where the crew 
could receive either mail or cablegrams. Two 
weeks and more had passed. Philip Morgan and 
George Belding had no idea where the Redbird 
was, or whether or not their relatives were safe. 

‘The fate of a ship at sea is an uncertain thing 
at best,” Phil Morgan said seriously to his 
friend, “in spite of the old salt’s oft-repeated 
prayer: ‘Heaven help the folks ashore on this 
stormy night, Bill !’ ” 

“Don’t joke about such serious matters,” Beld- 
ing replied. “Wonder how far the folks have 
got toward Bahia?” 

“Well, you know where we stuck the pins in 
the chart today, boy?” 

“To be sure. But we don’t really know a thing 
about it.” 

“Courage !” urged Whistler. “We are just as 
likely to be right in doping out the Redbird's 
course as not.” 


132 


STATIONS 


133 


“It’s the confounded uncertainty of it that gets 
me,” said Belding bitterly, and then changed the 
subject. 

Interest in the Colodia's search for German 
raiders and submarines did not flag even in the 
minds of these two members of her crew. For 
several days, however, the destroyer plowed 
through the sea, hither and yon, without picking 
out of the air a word regarding either the Sea 
Pigeon or the huge submarine which some of the 
boys believed they had surely seen in the mirage 
reflected against the morning sky. 

The detail work of a naval vessel at sea even 
in wartime, unless something “breaks,” is really 
very monotonous. Drills, studies, watch duties, 
clothes washing, deck scrubbing, brass polishing. 
All these things go on with maddening regular- 
ity. 

Every time the wireless chattered the watch on 
deck started to keen attention. But hour after 
hour passed and no word either of the German 
raider or the big submarine was caught by Sparks 
or his assistants. 

Yet there was a certain expectation of possible 
action all of the time that kept up the spirits of 
the men and boys of the destroyer. At any mo- 
ment an S O S might come, or an order from 
the far distant naval base for immediate and 
exciting work. 


134 


STATIONS 


The Colodia and her crew were supposed to be 
ready for anything — and she was and they were ! 

The daylight hours were so fully occupied with 
routine detail that the boys made little complaint; 
but during the mid-watch and the first half of 
the morning watch when the time drags so slowly, 
the crew sometimes suffered from that nervous 
feeling which suggests to the acute mind that 
‘‘something is about to happen.” 

On this particular night — it was mid-watch — 
things were going very easily indeed on the 
Colodia. It was a beautiful tropical night, with 
a sky of purple velvet in which sparkled more 
diamond-stars than Whistler Morgan or George 
Belding seemed ever to have seen before. 

They were lying on the deck, these two, and 
gazing lazily skyward, it not being their trick on 
lookout. The Colodia was running as usual with 
few lights showing; but not because it was sup- 
posed that there was any other craft, either 
friendly or of the enemy, within miles and miles 
of her course. 

They lay within full hearing of the radio room. 
Suddenly the wireless began to chatter. 

“Hold on!” exclaimed Whistler, seizing his 
friend’s sleeve. “That isn’t a call for you, 
George.” 

“I’ve got so I jump everytime I hear it,” ad- 
mitted Belding, sinking back to the deck. 


STATIONS 


135 


The messenger soon darted for the com- 
mander’s cabin. It was no immediate order or 
signal for help, or he would have first hailed the 
bridge. But soon Mr. Lang’s orderly appeared 
with a message for the officer of the watch. 

There were a few whispered words at the 
break of the bridge. Then the officer conning 
the ship gave swift directions for her course to 
be changed and signaled the engine room as well. 
Almost immediately the pace of the destroyer was 
increased. 

*T wonder what’s in the wind?” murmured 
Whistler. 

“I’m going; to see if I can find out,” said 
Belding, rising again. 

He went around to the door of the radio 
room. Sparks himself was on duty. He sat on 
the bench with the helix strap and “eartabs” ad- 
justed. He had just taken another message, but 
it was nothing meant for the commander of the 
Colodia. 

“That’s the second time to-night, George,” he 
said, removing his head-harness. “I don’t know 
what to make of it.” 

“What’s the matter, sir?” asked the young fel- 
low. 

“Why, I guess it’s static. Nothing more, I 
suppose. Yet it is a regular ‘ghost talk/ I can 
almost make out words.” 


136 


STATIONS 


“Goodness! What do you mean?’^ asked the 
young fellow, mightily interested. “I never 
heard of ‘ghost talk’, though I know ‘static’ means 
atmospheric pressure.” 

“Pah ! It means electricity in the air that we 
can’t wholly account for,” said Sparks. “But 
this ” 

“What?” 

“Why, I tell you, George- twice to-night I have 
almost caught something that seemed to be a mes- 
sage in one of our codes and tuned to this length 
of spark. But 1 can’t really make head nor tail 
of it.” 

“That wasn’t what you just sent alt to the Old 
Man?” 

“Shucks! No! I’ll give yofl a tip On that, 
young fellow,” and the radio man smiled. 
“We’ve been zigzagging across the Steamship 
routes, but now you will notice that we have an 
objective. That message was from Teneriffe in 
the Canaries. That big sub has been seen down 
that way.” 

“Bully!” exclaimed Whistler, who had come 
to look into the room over his friend’s shoulder. 

“Oh, that you, Whfstler? Well, there is 
northing secret about it. But this confounded 
‘ghost talk’ 

“Sounds interesting,” Whistler said. 

“I’m puzzled. I hope I’ll catch it again. It 


STATIONS 


137 


is just as though somebody — a slow operator, reg- 
ular ham — was trying to put something over and 
couldn’t quite do it. Funny things we hear in 
the air, anyway, at times.” 

He went back to his machine, grumbling, and 
the boys came away after a bit. The news that 
the super-submersible had been heard of again 
w^ something to talk about, at least, and served 
to keep them awake through the rest of the 
watch. 

In the morning the news that the German sub- 
marine was again active in a certain part of the 
ocean to the southward became generally known. 
It was likely that the strange and threatening 
craft, which plainly could make longer cruises 
than most submarines, had been sent forth to 
prey upon food ships from South America. 

She expected to lurk along steamship lanes, 
like a wolf crouched in the underbrush beside 
a forest path; and like that wolf, too. she was 
Relentless. Yet, her treatment of caplured ships 
thus far had been more humane than most, as 
shown by her use of the Que Vidafs crew and 
passengers. 

‘‘Still, she’s a regular pirate,” Whistler Mor- 
gan said in speaking of this. “See how her men 
robbed those poor sailors, and even the women.” 

“Ah, you said something then, boy!” AI Tor- 
rance agreed. 


138 


STATIONS 


wonder,” George Belding said reflectively, 
“if the war should end suddenly, and some of 
these U-boats are out in the various seas, if their 
commanders won’t become veritable pirates?” 

“How’s that?” cried Frenchy Donahue. “It’s 
pirates they are already!” 

“But to go it on their own hook,” put in 
Ikey. “I see what Belding means. Just think 
of a new race of buccaneers 1 Wow !” 

“Begorral” murmured the Irish lad, his eyes 
shining, “they might infest certain seas like the 
old pirates of the Spanish Main.” 

“I hope you see what you’ve started, George,” 
growled Whistler with mock anger. “Those kids 
are off again.” 

The friends from Seacove were not alone ex- 
cited by the renewed chase of the super-submer- 
sible. That day, too, there were two messages 
about the German craft. She had sunk a small 
freight boat and a fishing sloop. It was evident 
that she had run somewhere for supplies, and had 
now come back to the island waters. 

How many Canary fishermen’s sloops and tur- 
tle catchers she sank during the next few days 
will never be known. Mark of such vessels 
could not be taken until their crews rowed ashore 
— if they were fortunate enough to get to shore. 
The tales the Colodia got by wireless, however, 
showed that the Germans were robbing all crews. 


STATIONS 


139 


as they had the people from the 'Argentine ship. 

From these shore reports, it seemed that the 
huge submarine was circling ^bout th^ steamship 
lane again, boldly attacking everything that came 
in her way ; but it was not until next day that the 
destroyer got out of the air a bom fide call for 
help. This was from the radio of the British 
steamship Western Star bound up the Cape of 
Good Hope. 

She had merely time to repeat her S Q S 
signal when her spark was cut off. Doubtless 
the radio plant of the freighter was destroyed 
by shellfire. 

She had, however, given the Colodia clearly 
her situation,, and the United States destroyer 
started upon another of those remarkable dashes 
for which she and her sister ships were originally 
built. 

There was a chance that they might reach the 
spot where the Western Star was being held up 
before the submarine could get away; and the 
Colodia's crew was at stations, ready for what 
was coming. 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE SPITFIRE 

That was a great race, as the boys declared. 
The engines of the Colodi<i seemed to pick her 
right up and fling her onward over the sea. 

They passed no other ship, and after the break-* 
down of the Western StarU wireless, they got but 
vague whispers out of the air. and nothing at all 
about the huge German submarine that was at-*- 
tacking the British freighter. 

The lookout tops were filled with excited men 
and boys ; every member of the crew was on the 
alert. Tearing on through the calm sea, the de- 
stroyer reeled off the miles as fast as ever she 
had since her launching. 

Two hours passed. ICeen ears distinguished 
intermittent explosions from a southerly direc- 
tion. Then a smudge of smoke appeared on the 
horizon, as though a gianPs thumb had been 
smeared just above the sea line. 

‘There she is!” went up the cry from the de- 
stroyer^s crew. 

Their eagerness was increased, were that pos- 
sible. As the cloud of smoke grew, they were 
all aware that it was from a ship in flames. For 


140 


THE SEITFIRE 


141 


some reason the submarine had not torpedoed the 
freighter, but had set her aflame with fire bombs. 

Had the crew of the steamship been given a 
pbance to escape? That question was really the 
mainspring of the Americans’ desire to reach in 
such a hurry the scene oi the catastrophe. 

There was the thought of vengeance, too. If 
they could but overtake the German pirates and 
punish them as they deserved ! 

‘Tt is all very well,” said Belding, ‘‘to put 
forth the excuse that these Heinies only do what 
they are ordered to do. But how many of us 
Yankees, for instance, would obey our officers if 
they ordered us to commit such fiendish crimes 
as these submarine crews do, right along?” 

The chance that the German submarine would 
remain in the vicinity of the freighter till she 
sank, was not overlooked by the commander of 
the Colo dm. All on board were urged to keep 
their eyes open for the first sign of the enemy. 

But it was the refugees from the Western Star 
that the destroyer first raised— ^a flotilla of small 
boats being pulled steadily to the eastward where 
lay the islands surrounding Teneriffe. 

The Colodia kept away from the survivors, 
fearing that §he might draw the fire of the sub- 
marine and that thereby the safety of the small 
boats would be endangered. 

The Western Star was a roaring furnace, from 


142 


THE SPITFIRE 


stem to stern. The smoke and flame billowed out 
from her sides, offering a picture of devastation 
that was fairly awe-inspiring. 

But the sea immediately about the burning ship, 
as far as the Colodials crew could see, was quite 
empty. There was no sign of the enemy sub- 
marine. 

A signalman called to the bridge, flagged the 
survivors, and a man arose in the leading boat 
to answer. The Americans made out that the 
German submarine had been in the vicinity until 
within a very few minutes. She had but recently 
disappeared beyond the burning steamship, but 
had not at that time submerged. 

Commander Lang gave orders for a dash 
around the stern of the Western Star. It was 
hoped that the approach of the destroyer might 
have escaped the notice of the submarine’s com- 
mander. 

Suddenly there was heard an explosion of a 
shell in the hull of the burning ship. A great 
balloon of smoke belched forth and [lie craft 
shook from bow to stern. It vvas evident that 
the Gennans were getting impatient and wished 
the big freighter to sink. 

The gunners of the destroyer were at their sta- 
tions. There was a chance that they would get a 
shot at the submarine bcfqre she could submerge. 

The Colodia roared on, rounding the stern of 


THE SPITFIRE 


143 


the doomed ship. Another shell burst within her 
fire-racked hull ; a second explosion followed, and 
the hull fairly fell apart amidships! 

Then the American destroyer dashed into view 
of the e^emy. The big submarine lay only two 
cable lengths from the sinking ship, all her upper 
works visible to the excited Americans. Even 
her conning tower was open. 

She really did look like a small freighter, even 
at that distance. She had collapsible masts and 
smokestacks, and there were more than a dozen 
men on her deck. It would take some time to 
submerge such a craft. Plainly the Germans had 
not apprehended the approach of the American 
destroyer. 

‘Tdurrah, boys!’’ yelled one of the petty offi- 
cers, ‘‘we’re going to take tea with Heinie!” 

A roar of voices went up from the decks of the 
destroyer in reply to this cheer. A gun fore and 
aft spoke; both crews had been ordered to fire 
at the same object. That was the open conning 
tower of the submarine. 

If ever American shells fell true, those two 
did ! Right at the start the submarine’s chances 
for escape were made nil. The conning tower 
was wrecked and the craft could not safely sub- 
merge. 

But she could fight. Her gunners turned their 
weapons on the destroyer, and the shells began 


144 


THB SPITFIRE 


to shriek through the t^perworks of the fast 
naval ship. There were several casualties aboard 
the Colodiq within the first few minutes. 

But the submarine’s most- dangerous projectiles, 
the auto-torpedoes, could not be successfully used. 
As the destroyer swept past, the Germans sent 
one of these sharklike things full at her. But the 
Colodia darted between the submarine and the 
flaming ship, and the projectile passed her 
stern, landing full against the side of the 
Western Star, 

The reverberating crash of the explosion was 
enough to wreck one’s eardrums, so near was it. 
But all the time the destroyer was giving the 
crippled submarine broadside after broadside of 
guns; the upperworks of the German craft were 
fast becoming a twisted mass of wreckage! 

Again and again the Americans’ guns swept 
the fated submarine. But the latter was a spit- 
fire. Behind armored fortresses her men fired 
her guns with a rapidity that could but arouse 
the admiration of the boys on the Colodia, 

'‘Got to hand it to the Heinies !” yelled some- 
body. “They have bulldog pluck.” 

“Put a shell where it will do some good, boys !” 
begged one of the officers. “We haven’t landed 
a hit in her 'innards’ — and that is where the 
shells tell.” 

“My goodness !” gasped Whistler, working be'- 


THE SPITFIRE 


145 


side A1 Tofrance on one of the forward guns, 
''that shell told something — ^believe me !” 

The shot he meant seemed to have exploded 
under the deck of the submarine. Yards upon 
yards of the armorplate was lifted and splintered 
as a baseball might splinter a window. 

The destroyer was rounding the submarine at 
top speed. Volley after volley was poured into 
the rocking German craft. One shell wiped out 
a deck gun and all the Germans manning it. The 
slaughter was terrible. 

And yet her remaining guns were worked with 
precision — with desperate precision. She could 
not hold the range as the Americans did, but her 
crew showed courage as well as perfect training. 
The position of the submarine was hopeless, yet 
they fought on. 

Sweat was pouring into Phil Morgan’s eyes 
as he worked with his crew members over the 
hot gun. The sun was scorching, anyway ; it was 
the very hottest place he and A1 Torrance had 
ever got into, counting the big fight when they 
were with the Kennehunk, and all ! 

The destroyer received very little punishment. 
If the submarine did fight like a spitfire, her 
shells accomplished little damage. 

The Americans saw the big burning steamship 
fall apart in the middle and sink after the torpedo 
struck her. Great waves lifted their crests over 


* 146 


THE SPITFIRE 


the spot, and it was at this time the submarine 
was put in the greatest danger. 

The spreading billows caught the helpless sub- 
mersible and tossed her on their crests. Those 
on the Colodia saw the Germans running about 
the deck like ants about a disturbed ant hill. Then 
a huge wave topped the ship and broke over her ! 

A cheer started among the crew of the de- 
stroyer. But it was quenched in a moment. 
When the great wave rolled past they saw that 
the submarine had been flung upon its side and 
that it was sinking. 

‘‘She’s going down, boys ! She’s going down !” 
cried George Belding. “Don’t cheer any more — 
now.” 

Indeed the awful sight completely checked 
cheering. It is all right to fight an enemy; it is 
another matter to see that enemy sink ^neath 
the waves. 

And the strangeness of this incident impressed 
the lads seriously as well. The submarine’s own 
act had sunk her. She had been overborne by a 
wave from the sinking of the freighter. 

“She brought about her own punishment,” re- 
marked Whistler, voicing the general opinion of 
the crew of the American destroyer. “In other 
words, it was coming to them and they got it !” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


""ghost talk" again 

The Colodia was put about, and at reduced 
speed approached the spot where the submarine 
had gone down. There was very little wreckage 
on the surface of the ocean; but several black 
spots seen through the officers' glasses caused two 
boats to be hastily launched and both were driven 
swiftly to the rescue of the survivors of the 
German craft. 

Morgan was in one of these boats. All through 
the fight he had thought of the Argentine skipper, 
Captain di Cos of the Que Vida. The possibility 
of his still being aboard the submarine worried 
the American lad. If there were prisoners, they 
had gone down with the enemy craft. 

These were the fortunes of war; nevertheless, 
that the unfortunates should be lost with the 
members of the German crew, was a hard mat- 
ter. Only three survivors were picked up, and 
one of them, with his arm tomf off at the socket, 
died before the boats could get back to the de- 
stroyer. 

The two were Germans. Questioned about 
possible prisoners aboard the submarine, they 


147 


148 


GHOST TALK’* AGAIN 


denied knowledge of them. Yet it was positive 
that Captain di Cos, at least, had been carried 
away by the German craft when the Que Vida 
was sunk. 

Later some information was gleaned from the 
two prisoners brought back to the Colodia. The 
super-submarine had been known as the One 
Thousand and One. She was the first of a new 
type of subsea craft that the Germans hoped to 
use as common carriers if they won the war. 

According to the story told by the prisoners — 
especially by one who was more talkative than his 
fellow — the huge submarine had a crew of sixty 
men, with a captain for commander, a full lieu- 
tenant and a sub-lieutenant. She was fully pro- 
visioned and carried plenty of shells. Her com- 
mander’s desire to save torpedoes, their supply of 
which could not be renewed nearer than Zee- 
brugge or Kiel, was the cause of the submarine 
being caught unaware by the destroyer. 

Had the Western Star been sunk at once by 
the use of a torpedo, the underseas boat would 
have been far away from the scene when the 
American ship arrived. It was an oversight! 

“And it is an oversight her commander can 
worry about all through eternity,” Mr. MacMas- 
ters growled, in talking about it with the boys he 
took into his confidence now and then. “It is 
my idea that that big sub could get stores and oil 


GHOST TALK’^ AGAIN 


149 


without running' home to her base ; but she could 
not get torpedoes.” 

He did not explain further what Commander 
Lang and his officers suspected. But the German 
prisoners had been interrogated very carefully 
along certain lines, especially regarding that Ger- 
man raider called the Sea Pigeon for which the 
Colodia had really been sent in search. 

The big submarine had taken considerable 
treasure and valuable goods from the vessels she 
had sunk. Then, for a time, she had disappeared 
from the steamship lanes. Where had she gone 
with the stolen goods ? 

The prisoners hesitated to explain this. In- 
deed, one of them became immediately dumb 
when he saw what the questioning was leading 
to. From his companion, however,, was obtained 
some further information. 

It was a fact that the submarine had left her 
base with the raider known as the Sea Pigeon. 
The underseas boat convoyed the bigger craft 
through the danger zone. It was not a difficult 
guess that when the two German boats had 
separated arrangements had been made for 
certain rendezvous at future dates — when and 
where ? Besides, both boats were furnished with 
wireless. 

‘T would make that Heinie tell the whole 
story,” Ensign MacMasters said. 


150 


GHOST TALK’’ AGAIN 


“He might not tell the truth, sir,'’ suggested 
Whistler Morgan. 

“Then I’d hang him,” declared the officer. “A 
threat of that kind will make these brave Heinies 
come to time. I know ’em !” 

Commander Lang had his own way of going 
about this matter. He used his own good judg- 
ment. Whether he believed he had obtained the 
full truth from the prisoners or not about the 
Sea Pigeon, he turned the destroyer’s prow to- 
ward the reaches of the western Atlantic, leaving 
the eastern steamship lanes behind. 

The crew only knew that the Colodia must be 
following at least some faint trail of the raider. 
For the destroyer had been sent to get the Ger- 
man ship, and Commander Lang was not the man 
to neglect his work. 

The radio men picked plenty of chatter out of 
the air; but, as far as the Navy Boys knew, 
though they tried to find out, little of it referred 
to the German raider. 

One thing George Belding did learn from his 
friend. Sparks: The “ghost talk” was rife in 
the static once more. This wireless spectre had 
all the operators in a disturbed state of mind, to 
say the least. 

“Sparks seems to have lost his common sense 
for fair, over it,” A1 Torance observed. “You 
know more about this aero stuff than any of us. 


GHOST TALK’^ AGAIN 


151 


George. What do you really think it is ? S9me- 
body trying to call the Colodiaf' 

‘That is exactly what Sparks doesn’t know. 
He admitted to me that he caught the destroyer’s 
name, but not her number. It’s got so now this 
‘ghost’ breaks in at a certain time in the afternoon 
watch — just about the same time each day. One 
of his assistants says he has spelled out 'Colodia* 
too. But it may be nothing but a game.” 

“How ‘game’?” asked Ikey eagerly. 

“Somebody fooling with a machine. Sparks 
says the sounds grate just like ‘static!’ ” 

“And that is as clear as mud,” complained 
Frenchy Donahue. 

“Could this unexplained talk be some new Ger- 
man code ?” Whistler Morgan asked. 

“All Sparks got is in English; but it doesn’t 
amount to any sense, he says. If it is a code, he 
never heard the like before.” 

“It might be a German code with English 
words,” put in Al. “One word in code means a 
whole sentence.” 

“I believe you I Wish Sparks would let me put 
on the harness and listen in on it,” grumbled 
Belding. “I haven’t forgotten the wireless Morse 
I learned back there before the war.” 

“Go to it, George,” urged Al. 

“I wish I knew Morse,” added Whistler. “Get 
into it, George. Get Sparks to let you try a round 


152 


GHOST TALK’' AGAIN 


with the ‘ghost talk/ He is friendly to you/' 

Thus encouraged, Belding took a chance with 
the chief of the radio during that very afternoon 
watch. It was during these hours, it was re- 
ported, that the strange and mysterious sounds 
broke in upon the receiving and sending of the 
operators aboard the Colodia. 

“It is against the rules to let you into this room, 
boy," Sparks told him, smiling. “I can't give up 
my bench to a ham." 

“I'm no ham, Mr. Sparks," declared Belding. 
“I've shown you already that I can read and 
send Morse." 

“I don't know," the radio man murmured, 
shaking his head. 

But he was really fond of George Belding, and 
the latter had to coax only a little more. This, 
as a rule, was not a busy hour. 

He allowed the youth to slide in on the bench 
and handed him the head harness. George slipped 
the hard rubber discs over his ears and tapped 
the slide of the tuner with a professional finger. 

“Plenty of static," he observed, for it was 
trickling, exploding, and hissing in the receivers. 

“No induction," Sparks suggested. 

Belding slid up the starting handle. The white- 
hot spark exploded in a train of brisk dots and 
dashes. Belding snapped up the aerial switch 
and listened. The message he was catching from 


'GHOST TALK’^ AGAIN 


153 


the air was nothing to interest him or the Colodia. 

He was sensitizing the detector and soon ad- 
justed the tuning handle for high waves. The 
chief watched him with a growing appreciation 
of the boy’s knowledge of the instrument and its 
government. 

On these high planes the ether was almost 
soundless. Only a little static, far-removed, 
trickled in. It was in the high waves that most 
of the naval work is done and the sending of 
orders to distant ships is keyed as fine as a violin 
string — and sounds as musical. 

Sliding the tuning handle downward, Belding 
listened for commercial wave-lengths. Some- 
thing — something new and unutterably harsh — 
stuttered in his ear. 

He jerked back from the instrument and 
glanced suspiciously at Sparks. 

‘‘Do you hear it?” the latter demanded. 

“I hear something,” said the young fellow 
grimly. “It — beats — ^me ” 

Were these the sounds that had been disturb- 
ing the radio men, off and on, for a week or 
more? Laboriously, falteringly, the rasping 
sounds grated against Belding’s eardrums. It 
was actually torturing! 

The atrocious sending began, in Belding’s ear, 
to be broken into clumsy dots and dashes. The 
wave-lengths were not exactly commercial; nor 


154 ‘^GHOST TALK’’ AGAIN 

did the sending seem to be in the Continental 
code. 

He listened and listened; he turned the tuner 
handle up and down. He got the sound-waves 
short and got them long; high and low as well. 
But one fact he was sure of : they were the same 
sounds — the same series of clumsy dots and 
dashes — repeated over and over again! 

George Belding swung at last from the instru- 
ment and tore off the receiving harness. Sparks 
was grinning broadly upon him. 

“Ugh!’^ ejaculated the youth. “Is it a joke? 
I am almost deafened by the old thing.” 

“What do you make out the ghost talk to be, 
George ?” 

“Are you sure it isn’t a joke?” 

“Not on my part, I do assure you,” declared 
the radio man. 

“Then,” said Belding slowly, “I believe some- 
body is trying to communicate a message and 
for some reason can’t quite put it through.” 

“Did you get the word ‘Colodiaff” Sparks 
asked quickly. 

“No, sir. But one word I befieve I did get,” 
said the young fellow gravely. 

“What’s that?” 

“ ‘Help,’ ” Belding repeated. “ ‘H-e-l-p, Help.’ 
That’s what I got and all I got. I do not think 
I am mistaken in that 1” 


CHAPTER XIX 


A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION 

Had George Belding not been such a stubborn 
fellow he never would have stuck to his opinion 
about the strange call received by the Colodia's 
radio men, by wireless telegraph. For neither 
the chief, called Sparks, nor his assistants or stu- 
dents (the latter scornfully entitled *'hams”) had 
spelled anything like ‘‘help’’ out of the strange 
sounds to which Belding’s attention had been 
called. 

“Don’t tell me such stuff,” insisted the chief. 
“That’s as old as the hills, George. When I first 
went into wireless, it used to be the standing joke 
to feed the student a ‘Help! We are lost’ call to 
steady his nerves. It was called C D Q in those 
old times.” 

“I am not kidding,” said George Belding rather 
sullenly, for he did not like to be laughed at. 

“No. And dont’t try to make me believe that 
anybody is trying to kid you with a ‘help’ call,” 
Sparks said, sJiaking his head. 

But as we have said, George was stubborn. 
Spafks thought he had spelled out the name of 
the destroyer in those grating sounds. If so, 


155 


156 


A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION 


why shouldn’t it be just as reasonable that Beld* 
ing had heard the dots and dashes spelling 
‘h-e-l-p’? 

Belding put this up to Whistler and A1 when 
he had a chance to tell them about it in the first 
dog watch. He was not excited at all. He sim-^ 
ply did not like to have his word doubted or be 
laughed at by Sparks. 

“As for being laughed at,” the very sensible 
Philip Morgan said, “it strikes me that I wouldn’t 
be worried by that. Your opinion is just as good 
as old Sparks’ or anybody else’s, for that matter. 
Eh, Al?” 

“Why not?” returned the other Seacove boy. 
“It was George heard the sounds, not Sparks. 
Get a chance to listen in again, George.” 

“Can it be possible that there is somebody try- 
ing to send a message for help to the ColodiaF' 
Whistler went on slowly. 

“Cracky!” ejaculated Al, “I didn’t think of 
that.” 

“Sparks says that he thought he spelled out 
the destroyer’s name. George has heard the word 
‘help.’ Get after it, George I” he added, earnestly. 
“Don’t let ’em put you down.” 

“But who under the sun would be doing such 
a thing?” demanded Al. “Is it a joke, after all ?” 

“It will be a sorry joke if our Government gets 
after the sendef. The law is mighty strict aboub 


A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION 157 

private wireless plants, you know,’' said Phil 
Morgan. 

‘There is one sure thing,” declared Belding. 
“If anybody is trying to call this ship, they don’t 
know much about the regulation codes and send- 
ings. They don’t know the destroyer’s number, 
and the way they handle Morse is a caution to 
cats !” 

“Stick to it,” advised Whistler. 

But George did not really need to be urged in 
this direction. The next afternoon watch he was 
back at the radio room begging to “listen in” 
again. Because of the interest the radio men 
had begun to feel in the “ghost talk” in the air 
at this time of day, both Sparks and one of his 
assistants were on hand. 

The regular tadio men were listening for the 
peculiar voice in the wireless, at all hours ; but it 
seemed to be confined now to an hour or two in 
mid-afternoon. One after the other the Colo dials 
radio force slipped on the receiving harness and 
listened to the mystery. Belding got his chance, 
in spite of the fact that Spafks laughed at him. 

This time Belding kept the instrument tuned 
down to the commercial waves on which it seemed 
the “ghost talk” was the more easily transmitted. 
Now and then he got the spelling of a letter 
clearly. But not a word in its entirety did he 
hear on this day — not even “help.” 


158 


A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION 


“I get V, ‘d', and 'b’ a lot,” he signed, turning 
the receiver over to Sparks again. ‘'They are in 
rotation — 'r', 'd', ‘b’ — and sometimes there fol- 
lows another ‘d'. There are letters missing be- 
tween them, excepting between the ‘b’ and the 
first ‘d’.” 

“No ‘help’ stuff, eh?” queried Sparks. 

“Nor any 'Colodia'” snorted Belding. 

But he sat and watched the radio chief give his 
full attention to the mystery, and after a minute 
or two saw that the man was spelling something 
out carefully on the pad of scratch-paper under 
his hand. Belding peered over his shoulder and 
saw Sparks set down these letters as he heard 
them in the sound waves : 

R DB 
R DB R 
R DB D 
RE B D 
R D RD 
R DB 
RE I 

Sparks pulled off the harness and swung about 
to look at George Belding. 

“Is that about what you heard ?” he demanded. 

“Yes, sir. At least, in part.” 

“Well, hang it all!” cried Sparks. “That’s a 
still newer combination. It’s neither ^Colodia' 
nor ‘help.’ I tell you it beats me, George.” 


A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION 


159 


When Belding left the wireless room he took 
with him the piece of paper on which Sparks had 
written. The letters in combination seemed to 
mean nothing; but he showed them to Whistler 
and A1 Torrance when he found those two chums 
together. 

"‘Looks like one of those puzzles they have on 
the back page of the papers at home,” said Al. 
“You know : The ones you are supposed to fill in 
with other letters to make ’em read the same up 
and down and across.” 

“This is no acrostic,” said Belding firmly 

But Whistler stared steadily at the paper for 
some minutes without saying a word. Only his 
lips slowly puckered, and Al nudged him to break 
off the thoughtful whistle which he knew his 
chum was about to vent. 

“Huh? Oh! All right,” murmured Morgan, 
accepting Al’s admonition. 

“What do you see?” asked Belding. 

“I see that it is the same word each time, of 
course,” replied Whistler. “But I don’t believe 
my eyes.” 

“What’s that?” demanded the other two boys. 

“If the ghost of the air,” said Whistler gravely, 
“did not spell out the name of this destroyer this 
afternoon, it certainly did try to put over the 
name of another ship.” 

“Wow !” exclaimed Al. “Tell us.” 


160 


A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION 


“What ship do you mean?” asked Belding, 
scowling thoughtfully at the paper. 

Quickly Whistler covered the letters on the 
sheet as, with his own pencil, he filled in the gaps 
between them. When he flashed the sheet before 
the eyes of his two friends each of the lines of 
letters made the same word. And that word was : 
“REDBIRD” 

“My goodness! You have gone crazy, Phil 
Morgan!” almost shouted Belding. 

“Cracky ! that’s the ship your sisters and Beld- 
ing’s folks are aboard, you know,” gasped Torry. 
“Why, Whistler, I believe with George that you 
are crazy!” 

“All I see,” said Morgan, quite unruffled, “is 
that George brought us some letters that, very 
easily and sensibly, make the name of his father’s 
ship now bound for Bahia.” 

“Cracky!” exclaimed A1 again. 

“But — ^but do you suppose anything has hap- 
pened to father, mother and the girls? Do you 
really, Morgan?” 

“Who said anything about ‘something happen- 
ing’ to them?” demanded his friend with some 
heat. “I am merely pointing out the possibility 
that the name of that ship is in a wireless mes- 
sage that somebody seems anxious to put over.” 

“But who — what ” 

“Exactly !” exclaimed Whistler, stopping Beld- 


A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION 


161 


ing at that point. “We don’t know. We have 
merely learned that the radio men first spelled out 
the name of this destroyer. Now you and the 
chief have caught the name of the Redbird, The 
two names seem to be in the combination. There- 
fore, is it ‘crazy’, as you fellows say, for me to 
suggest that perhaps the mysterious message deals 
with both of the vessels named?” 

“I begin to see your idea, Phil,” admitted Beld- 
ing. “But it did shake me. You know, I spelled 
out ‘help’ first of all.” 

“But you did not get that to-day,” said Whist- 
ler quickly. Then he added: “We know the 
Redbird is fitted with wireless.” 

“Yes.” 

“Perhaps somebody aboard is trying to send a 
message to us just for fun.” 

“For fun, indeed!” exclaimed A1 Torrance. 
“People aren’t fooling with the radio ‘for fun’ in 
these times.” 

“I don’t know. You know how girls are,” 
drawled Whistler. “George, does your sister 
Lilian know anything about Morse and the 
radio?” 

“Oh, my prophetic soul !” gasped Belding, sud- 
denly arousing to the point Whistler made. “I 
should say she did 1 Lil got to be fairly good at 
both sending and receiving when we had the plant 
on the roof of our house.” 


162 


A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION 


“Could this be Lilian trying to get a message 
over to us — ^just for fun?” 

“Cut out the *fun’ business,” implored Al. 
“That doesn't sound reasonable.” But that was 
the very idea that caught George Belding. 

“She’s that kind of girl,” he declared. “Tell her 
she must not do a thing, and she’s sure to try it. 
But I don’t understand ” 

“Of course, it’s only a guess on my part,” 
Whistler said quickly. “But can’t you think of 
some way to try her out — identify her, you know ? 
Tell Sparks what you think and get him to let you 
try to send her a message.” 

“Whew!” exclaimed Al. “So there’s nothing 
more than that in it? Shucks! Another mystery 
gone fooey.” 

“Phil’s idea does sound awfully reasonable,” 
added Belding, evidently much relieved in his 
mind. 

Phil Morgan’s countenance did not reveal his 
secret gravity. He still remembered that the 
word “help” had been connected with the names 
of the two craft — the destroyer and the merchant 
vessel — which seemed to be a part of the strange 
message out of the air. 


CHAPTER XX 


TOO LATE AGAIN 

If the Seacove boys, George Belding and the 
radio force, found an interest aside from the gen- 
eral object of the Colodia^s cruise, the bulk of the 
crew were not so fortunate. Their keen outlook 
for the German raider the Sea Pigeon, began to 
be dulled as the tropical days dragged by. 

The destroyer was running down a westerly 
course near enough to the equatorial regions to 
cause every one to feel the languor that usually 
affects the northern-born in southern climes. The 
boys lolled around the decks, and found drill and 
stations hard tasks indeed. 

Everybody said : ‘Ts it hot enough for you 
And with the permission of the executive officer 
more than half the crew slept on deck instead of 
below in their hammocks. 

During a part of the afternoon watch the en- 
gines of the destroyer were stopped, a liferaft 
was lowered on the shady side of the ship, and 
the boys in squads were allowed to bathe, the 
quartermaster’s boat with two sharpshooters in it, 
lying off a few yards on the watch for sharks. 

The Colodia had an objective point, however. 


163 


164 


TOO LATE AGAIN 


toward which she was heading without much loss 
of time. Hour after hour she steamed at racing 
speed and through an ocean that seemed to be 
utterly deserted by other craft. 

In those wartimes the lanes of steam shipping, 
and sailing craft as well, had been changed. Ships 
sometimes sailed far off their usual course to 
reach in safety a port, the track to which was 
watched by the German underseas boats. The 
Colodia would ordinarily have passed half a hun- 
dred ships on this course which she followed 
toward the American shores. 

Cruising the seas, whether for pleasure, profit, 
or on war bent, is a very different thing nowadays 
from formerly. Practically this change has been 
brought about by a young Italian who had a 
vision. 

No longer does a ship go blindly on her course, 
unable to learn who may be her neighbor, deaf 
to what the world ashore is doing as long as she 
remains out of port. 

The wireless telegraph has made this change. 
The radio furnishes all the gossip of sea and land. 
Even in wartime the news out of the air puts 
those at sea in touch with their fellowmen. 

All day long, and through the night as well, 
the radio force on the Colodia might listen to the 
chatter of the operators on land and sea. 
Unnecessary conversation between operators is 


TOO LATE AGAIN 


165 


frowned upon ; but who is going to ‘‘listen in” on 
a couple of thousand miles of wireless and report 
private conversations between working radio 
men? 

On the Colodia a man was at the instrument 
practically every minute, day or night. Commer- 
cial messages, whether warnings, code sendings 
of three or four Governments, the heavy sound- 
waves from Nauem, the German naval headquar- 
ters, flashes from ship to ship — all this grist 
passed through the wireless mill of the destroyer. 

All the time, too, they were seeking news of 
the Sea Pigeon, the German raider, which the 
Colodia had been sent out particularly to find. 
Of course, the finish of the submarine One Thou- 
sand and One had been reported to the naval base, 
and an emphatic, “Well done !” had been returned. 
But the sinking of the submarine, after all, was 
not the main issue. 

As the destroyer had combed the sea for her 
prey, so she combed the air by her wireless for 
news of the raider. And when the news came it 
was as unexpected as it was welcome. The men 
were offering wagers that the destroyer would 
end in seeing New York again rather than sight- 
ing the Sea Pigeon, when just after the wheel and 
lookout were relieved at four bells of the morning 
watch, the radio began to show much activity. 

Messengers passed, running to and fro from 


166 


TOO LATE AGAIN 


the station to the officers* quarters. There was 
not usually much radio work at this hour, and the 
watch on deck began to take notice. 

George Belding slid around to the radio room 
and showed a questioning countenance to Sparks 
who was himself on duty. 

‘‘What’s doing, sir?” he asked the radio chief. 

“Well, we haven’t picked up your particular 
SOS; but there is trouble somewhere dead 
ahead.” 

“I can feel that the engines are increasing 
speed, sir,” Belding said. “Does it mean that we 
may have a scrap with a sure-enough Hun?” 

“The message sounds like it,” admitted the 
radio man softly. “There’ll be trouble, I reckon. 
You’ll hear all about it, soon enough.” 

Commander Lang himself appeared on the 
bridge, and this was a surprisingly early hour for 
him. Other officers gathered, and there began a 
somewhat excited conference. The boatswain’s 
mates failed to pipe the clothes lines triced up. 
Half an hour earlier than usual the hammocks 
were ordered stowed. Ikey Rosenmeyer, who 
loved to sleep till the last minute, was tumbled 
out unceremoniously and had to stow his ham- 
mock in his shirt! 

The hammock stowers likewise stopped down 
the hammock cloths early, and the whole crew 
had their mess gear served out long before the 


TOO LATE AGAIN 


167 


galley was ready to pipe breakfast. During the 
meal hour word was passed to shift into uniform 
instead of work clothes. 

“It’s extra drill, I bet,” declared one of the 
boys pessimistically. “More work for the wicked.” 

“There is something doing, sure enough,” Phil 
Morgan declared. “I think we shall be piped to 
stations before long.” 

He had not seen George Belding then. When 
the latter reported what he had heard at the radio 
room Whistler was more than ever confident that 
there was something of importance about to take 
place. It was some time, however, before the real 
fact went abroad among the members of the crew. 

The radio had indeed brought news at last of 
the raider. She was supposed to be lurking near 
a point not more than two hours’ run ahead of the 
Colodia. A report from a cattleship had been 
caught, stating that she was chased just at day- 
break by a steamship that was heavily armed 
with deck guns, and that she surely would have 
been overtaken by the enemy had fog not shut 
down and given the cattle boat a chance to zig- 
zag away on a new course. 

The description of the attacking vessel fitted 
that of the raider. Sea Pigeon. Commander Lang 
and his officers believed that there was a chance 
of meeting the German — of approaching her, in- 
deed, unheralded. 


168 


TOO LATE AGAIN 


There was a good deal of fog about ; but over- 
head the sky was clear and there was the promise 
of a hot day before noon. Having the approx- 
imate latitude and longitude of the cattleship 
when she sighted the raider, Commander Lang 
believed the Colodia had a good chance of over- 
taking the German ship while she was lingering 
about on the watch for her prey. 

The fog was growing thinner, but had by no 
means entirely disappeared even in the vicinity 
of the destroyer, when her wireless began to 
chatter. Sparks sent a nlessenger on the run to 
the bridge. This incident visibly increased the 
excitement of both officers and crew. Word was 
passed in whispers from the petty officers sta- 
tioned near the bridge that the call was another 
SOS. 

A second message followed almost immedi- 
ately. The Colodia's engines were speeded up. 
The crew was piped to quarters. The gun crews 
made ready their initial charges. Everything about 
the decks was properly stopped down and the de- 
stroyer was quickly put into battle trim. 

Message after message came from the radio 
room. Belding came breathlessly to Whistler and 
A1 Torrance with the announcement that it was 
a sugar ship being attacked, and surely by the 
raider. Soon the distant "reports of guns could be 
heard. 


TOO LATE AGAIN 


169 


‘‘If the Suscmne can only hold the Heinies off 
till we get there,” said Belding, who had learned 
the name of the sugar-laden ship, “we will show 
them something.” 

“We will show them if the German raider isn’t 
too fast for us,” responded Al. “They say this 
Sea Pigeon is mighty fast and a pretty nifty boat 
into the bargain.” 

“The old Colodia will show her,” said Whistler 
with confidence. “Just give us a chance!” 

The destroyer plowed on through both sea and 
fog, while the rumble of the guns grew in magni- 
tude. Whether much damage was being done or 
not, a good many shots were exchanged by the 
combatants. It might have been a veritable naval 
engagement. 

The fog swirled about the bows of the Colodia, 
and the lookouts strained their eyes to catch the 
first glimpse of the fighting ships. As the fog 
was thinning from above, the watchers in the tops 
had the best chance of first sighting the sugar 
ship and the raider that had attacked her. 

A wireless transmitted news of the fight as it 
progressed. The Germans had not yet succeeded 
in putting the merchant ship’s radio out of com- 
mission. In response, the destroyer had assured 
the Susanne of her own approach. 

“Hold on! We are coming!” the Colodia’ s 
radio had sent forth. 


170 


TOO LATE AGAIN ^ 

Enemy half mile off. Steaming two Icnots to 
our one,” came the response from the sugar ship. 

‘Tight it out! We are coming!” repeated 
Sparks from the destroyer. 

“Shell has burst abaft the kfterhouse com- 
panion. Two of after gun crew killed. Volun- 
teers take their places. We have put a shell 
through enemy’s upperworks.” 

“Great! Keep it up!” chattered the Colodia's 
radio. 

“Another shell has reached us aft. Women 
and children sent forward to forecastle.” 

The final sentence, read aloud by an officer 
from the bridge, excited the crew of the Colodia 
to the utmost. 

The American seamen were spurred to fighting 
pitch now. Their only desire was to get at the 
raider and her crew. 

“It’s a running fight between her and the 
Susanne/' Morgan said to A1 Torrance. “Other- 
wise the German shells might have reached the 
sugar ship’s engines before this.” 

“Think of them shelling that merchant ship 
that has women passengers aboard !” groaned Al. 
“What can those Germans be thinking of ? What 
will happen to them after this war is over?” 

“They all believe they are going to win,” Beld- 
ing said gloomily. “That is what is the matter. 
And if they should, the whole world will be 


TOO LATE AGAIN 


171 


treated just as ruthlessly as the Germans piease.” 

'‘Don't talk that way! Don't talk that way!" 
shouted Al. “I won't listen to such a possibility ! 
They can't win this war, and that's ^1 there is 
to it!" 

“Quiet, there," admonished the voice of an 
officer, and the boys subsided to whispered com- 
ments, one to the other. 

Again and again the wireless chattered the cry 
for help. The guns thundered ahead. Suddenly 
there arose a rosy light in the sky, spreading 
through the fog in a wide wave of color. 

“She's blown up!" was the general and hope- 
less ejaculation from the crew of the destroyer. 

“Her engines went that time, sure enough — 
and her boilers, too," groaned Ensign MacMas- 
ters, who chanced to stand near the gun crew to 
which Whistler and Al belonged and where Beld- 
ing was stationed in reserve. “She’s helpless 
now. If we don't get there soon " 

There were no more radio messages. The calls 
to the Susanne were not answered. The melting 
fog soon gave the lookouts a clearer view ahead. 

“Steamship tops and rigging in sight, sir 1” was 
the cry to the bridge. Then, a minute later: 
“She's on fire, sir, and sinking by the stern." 

“Ah !" muttered Ensign MacMasters. “We are 
too late again!" 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE MYSTERY MESSAGE 

In a very few minutes the crew of the Colodia 
— all those above deck, at least — gained a view 
of the burning ship. 

She was completely wrecked at the stem, and 
it was probably true, as Ensign MacMasters had 
said, that her engines and boilers had been blown 
up. She lay helpless and sinking. 

All her passengers and her crew had been 
driven forward by the flames. The bow of the 
steamship was slanting up into the air at a threat- 
ening angle. The men were lowering such boats 
as there remained from the forward davits. 

The Susanne's bulk, the smoke, and the last 
shreds of the fog hid the enemy from the view 
of the destroyer’s crew. But suddenly they saw 
a high-powered motor-boat appear beside the 
crippled steamship. Armed men filled it. Two 
stood up as the boat swung in to the steamship’s 
side and caught the hanging davit ropes. They 
hooked these ropes to the launch, fore and aft. 

As quickly as one can tell it, the Germans 
‘ 'tailed on” to the ropes and hauled their own 
boat into the air. In a minute she overhung the 


172 


THE MYSTERY MESSAGE 


173 


rail of the sugar ship and the Germans swarmed 
out upon her deck. 

The forward guns of the Colodia might have 
thrown shells into this launch, but such missies 
would have imperiled the lives of the people on 
the Susanne. 

The Colodia' s officers through their glasses 
could see the remaining passengers and crew of 
the sugar ship lined up against the rail under the 
threatening rifles of the Germans. There was 
considerable activity on the deck of the sinking 
ship during the next few minutes. 

The destroyer swerved in her course, her com- 
mander hoping to get around the Susanne and 
mark the position of the raider before the motor 
launch could get away from the sinking ship. But 
the Germans worked so quickly that this chance 
was very small indeed. The destroyer was still 
a long shot away from the exciting scene. 

A number of men were seen staggering along 
the deck of the sugar ship bearing some heavy 
object. It was hoisted into the launch and then 
the latter was lowered quickly into the sea, most 
of the Germans scrambling down as best they 
might. 

“It’s the purser’s strong box !” shouted one of 
the lookouts in the destroyer’s top. “And they 
are going to shoot the poor guy, I bet, for not 
giving up the combination!” 


174 


THE MYSTERY MESSAGE 


Other members of the ColoduYs company had 
already observed a man’s figure, with his hands 
tied behind him, standing at the farther rail of 
the Susanne, The four last men from the raider’s 
launch, all ready to descend into the boat, raised 
their rifles and fired across the deck at the victim. 
The man fell, and the murderers swarmed down 
the rope into the launch. 

All this the excited crew of the destroyer saw 
while they were yet too far away to be of any 
help. Commander Lang might have ordered his 
guns to open fire; but the danger of hitting the 
Siismvne was too great. 

The officer commanding the German launch 
was too sharp to give the coming destroyer any 
safe chance of making a hit without damaging 
the sugar ship. He steered his motor-boat right 
along the hull of the crippled Siiscmne, under the 
shower of flaming debris that had begun to fall, 
and went out of sight in a cloud of smoke that 
had settled upon the sea. 

This smoke offered a splendid bit of camouflage 
for the raider and the launch. Up to this point 
the lookouts in the destroyer’s tops had caught 
no glimpse of the Sea Pigeon. She was a very 
wary bird indeed! 

The smoke cloud from the burning ship spread 
across the sea and supplemented the fast dis- 
solving fog in hiding the German craft But sud- 


THE MYSTERY MESSAGE 


175 


denly a lookout hailed the Colodia’s quarter : 

‘‘Steamship’s top, sir! Six hundred yards 
abaft the sinking ship, sir!” 

Orders snapped to the forward gun crews. 
They could see nothing but fog and smoke astern 
of the Susanne; but their knowledge of elevation, 
distance, and other gunnery lore, encouraged 
them to hope for a “strike.” 

The guns began to speak, and the shells shrieked 
over the stern of the sinking steamship, exploding 
somewhere in the smoke cloud. There followed 
no shots in reply. The Germans were shy. The 
thickening smoke shut out again all sight of the 
Sea Pigeon. 

The condition of the Susanne was threatening. 
Commander Lang dared not consider a pursuit of 
the German raider when lives were in such peril 
here. 

Two boats were all that had been put out from 
the sugar ship. Her other small craft were 
smashed by the shellfire of the raider. 

Some forty or more people were gathered in 
the bows of the Susanne, and they must needs be 
taken off quickly. The big merchant vessel was 
surely going down. 

Her two boats had already pulled away to a 
safe distance. Commander Lang would not risk 
his own small craft near the trembling hull of the 
Susanne, but swerved the course of the destroyer 


176 


THE MYSTERY MESSAGE 


that she might run m under the high bows of the 
ill-fated ship. 

Signals were passed, and the remaining mem- 
bers of the Siisanne's crew hastened to prepare 
slings in which to lower the passengers to the de- 
stroyer’s deck. 

''Volunteers to go up there and help those 
people! Smart, now!” sang out the executive 
officer of the Colodia through his trumpet. 

Ikey Rosenmeyer and Frenchy Donahue, who 
were both free, leaped forward at the call. With 
Seven Knott and two other sailors, they swarmed 
up to the high bows of the imperiled ship. 

The two Seacove boys were well trained in the 
uses of cordage and in knotting and splicing. 
They seized a coil of rope and, working together 
swiftly, safely lowered three women and a 
wounded man over the rail to the destroyer’s 
deck before they were piped down from the 
Siisanne, 

Even the dead body of the murdered purser 
was sent aboard the Colodia. The flames were 
by that time surging upward, and it was almost 
too hot to stand upon her forward decks. The 
bows of the ship were being thrust up as her 
stern sank. At any minute the wreck might 
plunge beneath the sea. 

"Back all!” rose a stentorian voice from the 
destroyer. 


THE MYSTERY MESSAGE 


177 


Ikey and Frenchy went over the rail and 
swarmed down their respective lines. They were 
guided inboard to the firm deck of the destroyer. 
The other workers followed. The Colodia backed 
swiftly away. 

Nor was this done a minute too soon. The 
wreck was already wallowing from side to side 
like some wounded monster of the sea. The air 
pressure blew up the forward deck. Had the sur- 
vivors remained longer they would have been 
overwhelmed ! 

A roaring like that of a great exhaust pipe 
came from the interior of the sugar ship. The 
sea began to seethe in a whirlpool about her. She 
stood almost upright on her stern as she sank. 

Down, down she went, while the destroyer 
turned tail and scudded away at top speed. To be 
caught in that whirlpool would have spelled dis- 
aster for even as staunch a craft as the Colodia 
undoubtedly was. 

The Susanne disappeared slowly, with great 
combers roaring about her. Beaten to a froth, 
the waves leaped, white-maned, upon her tossing 
sprit, and finally hid even that from sight. The 
sea was a cauldron of boiling waters, and that 
for hundreds of yards around. 

The two boats that had escaped from the wreck 
had been pulled far away. They were loaded 
heavily, but were not at the time in any danger. 


178 


THE MYSTERY MESSAGE 


The Colodia, therefore, did not swing her nose in 
their direction. 

Instead, she was speeded into the rapidly thin- 
ning smoke cloud which covered the sea astern of 
the sugar ship. There the German raider was 
somewhere hiding. It was possible that one of 
the shells from the destroyer might have done her 
some damage, or might even have struck the 
motor launch. 

These hopes were doomed to disappointment, 
however. Five minutes after the Susanne was 
utterly sunk, the smoke was so dissipated that the 
lookouts on the destroyer could view the ocean 
for miles about. 

In the distance, and reeling off the knots at 
most surprising speed, Avas a steam vessel that 
could be naught else than the Sea Pigeon. She 
had picked up her motor launch and escaped. The 
Colodia might have followed and overhauled her 
in a long chase ; but she Could not desert the two 
boatloads of survivors from the sugar ship here 
in the middle of the Atlantic. 

The radio man was sending queries for help 
for the survivors of the Susanne; but no ship 
answered nearer than two hundred miles. It was 
the first duty of the naval vessel to save the help- 
less, and she could not fight the German pirates 
and make these people comfortable, too. 

So pursuit was abandoned, much to the dis- 


THE MYSTERY MESSAGE 


179 


satisfaction of her crew, and the Colodia swung 
around and approached the two open boats. 
These, with their cargoes of human freight, were 
picked up. Then the destroyer was headed into 
the north, there to meet a Mediterranean-bound 
steamship that would take off the Susanne's cast- 
aways and leave the naval vessel free again. 

Of course the Navy Boys were vastly interested 
in the experiences of the people from the sunken 
ship. Few of her crew, and no passengers, had 
been lost. When the boilers had blown up two 
of the firemen were killed and several wounded. 

The courageous purser who had refused to tell 
the Germans the combination of the safe in his 
office, was the only officer killed. In that safe 
had been the wealth of several passengers. The 
raider wanted gold more than anything else. 

‘‘Just like the pirates of old, I tell you,'’ 
Frenchy said to his chums. “Those old fellows 
used to make their captives walk the plank. Now 
these Huns line 'em up and shoot them. I only 
hope we catch and sink that Sea^ Pigeon, and 
every German aboard of her!" 

“Look out he doesn't bite you, fellows,” ad- 
vised Al. “He’s got hydrophobia.” 

But they all felt increased anger at the enemy 
when they had talked with the survivors of the 
Stcsanne. Their experience was enough to stir 
the blood of any listener. 


180 


THE MYSTERY MESSAGE 


“That Sea Pigeon has got to be caught !” was 
the assurance of the boys and men of the Colodia' s 
crew. 

The cruise, after this experience, was a much 
more serious matter to them all than it had been 
before. As far as the Seacove boys and Belding 
went, it had become pretty serious in any case. 
The prime reason for this lay in the message of 
mystery that the radio men continued, at times, 
to half catch out of the air. 

George Belding confided to Sparks the name 
Phil Morgan had made out of the uncertain let- 
ters which the chief had written down after hear- 
ing them repeated in his ear while at the radio 
instrument. “Redbird” ; that seemed plain enough. 

“And the Redbird is the ship my folks and 
Whistler*s sisters are sailing on to Bahia,” ex- 
plained Belding. “Why, she might be right out 
yonder, not so many miles away,” and he pointed 
into the west. 

“You mean to say your sister can send Morse?” 

“She used to be able to. She wasn't quick or 
accurate, but she could get a message over.” 

“There is something altogether wrong with this 
sending,” said the radio man thoughtfully. 

“I know it, sir. She wouldn't know any code. 
She would probably spell out every letter and 
word. We only get a part of what is sent. That 
is, if it is Lilian who is doing this.” 


THE MYSTERY MESSAGE 


181 


‘‘It is mighty interesting, this ‘ghost talk\” the 
chief said slowly. “I can see you are putting 
altogether too much faith in the possibility that 
tht stuff is real. Why, we often get the most 
inexplicable sounds out of the air! It is a very 
long chance that this is a real message, or that 
it is from your sister, George.” 

“It’s a message from somebody and from 
somewhere; and Fm awfully interested, too,” de- 
clared Belding. “I wish you’d let me listen in 
again ” 

“Oh, ril do that little thing for you,” agreed 
Sparks. “If there is nothing much doing in radio 
in the afternoon watch, come around again.” 

With this promise George Belding contented 
himself. He told Whistler and the other boys 
he was going to set down every letter of the mys- 
tery message that he could comprehend, and see 
afterward just what could be made out of them — 
sense or nonsense! 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE WIRELESS CALL FOR HELP 

Having delivered the survivors of the Susmne 
to the greater comforts of an Italian liner bound 
eastward, the Colodiafs own course was set for 
the south and west. Her commander and crew 
hoped to pick up news of the Sea Pigeon once 
again. At any rate, the German raider had been 
last seen making off toward the West Indies and 
the Caribbean. 

The destroyer was below the Tropic of Cancer 
now, and the weather was exceedingly hot. A 
dress of dungaree trousers and sleeveless under- 
shirt was the most popular uniform forward of 
the bridge, decided Donahue. 

'The brass hats who have to fairly live in their 
uniforms are greatly to be pitied.” 

Drills were not pushed, and many duties be- 
came merely a matter of form. 

Yet there was a very serious train of thought 
in the minds of the Seacove boys and George 
Belding, as has been shown. There had been un- 
certainty enough regarding the voyage of the 
Redbird to Bahia; but since the beginning of 
what the radio men called the "ghost talk” out of 


182 


THE WIRELESS CALL FOR HELP i83 


the air, the five friends had all felt a greater 
measure of anxiety. 

Of course, it was by no means certain that these 
letters in Morse that suggested the name Redbird 
had anything to do with Mr. Belding’s ship and 
her company. Yet, not having heard in any form 
from the party bound for Bahia since the ship left 
New York, it was not strange that George Beld- 
ing and Phil Morgan, at least, should be especially 
troubled in their minds. 

During the afternoon watch on this day in 
which George had gone to Mr. Sparks again, the 
young fellow got relief and approached the radio 
room. The chief was off duty and one of his 
assistants was at the instrument. But the older 
man was lolling in the doorway and welcomed 
Belding with a smile. 

here,” said Sparks, nodding to the stu- 
dent at the instrument, ‘‘was just telling me ‘ghost 
talk' is coming over again. He says he gets 
‘Colodia' as clear as can be.” 

“My goodness! Then somebody is trying to 
call us, Mr. Sparks!” murmured Belding. 

“I don't know. I’ve been keeping track, busy 
as we have been fof a couple of days. I really 
think there is some attempt to put a message 
over ; but whether it is for fun or serious, I would 
not dare state. Or whether it is meant for us or 
not. It isn't the same message each l‘me.” 


184 THE WIRELESS CALL FOR HELP 


“But you do believe that somebody is trying — 
or something?” 

“ ‘Something’ is good,” growled Sparks. “I’ve 
made out ‘Colodia’ more than a few times myself. 
And I agree that the letters you caught the last 
time you were listening in, and which I heard 
myself, may spell ‘Redbird’. Then, you know, 
you said you heard ‘help.’ ” 

“Well, I did !” snorted Belding. 

The radio chief pushed a square bit of paper 
into his hand. On it were set down without 
spacing of any kind the following line of letters : 
“c,o,l,o,d,i,a,h,e,l,p,r,e,d,b,i,r,d,l,b.” 

“I will be honest with you, George,” he said, 
watching closely the flushing face of the youth. 
“I really got those letters not half an hour ago. 
They were repeated in just that order several 
times. What do you make out of them?” 

Belding’s excitement was growing momentarily. 
He seized Sparks’ pencil and wrote under the 
row of letters swiftly and surely: 

“Colodia— Help— Redbird— L.B.” 

The chief nodded. L. B-’ being your sister’s 
initials, eh?” 

“Yes, sir,” cried George breathlessly. “Lilian 
Belding.” 

“Get over there on the bench. Jim will give 
you the harness. Listen in and see what you can 
make of it now,” said Sparks, himself excited. 


THE WIRELESS CALL FOR HELP 185 


George slid on to the bench and Jim handed 
him the receivers and strap. The youth fitted the 
discs to his ears, settled himself on the seat, and 
opened the key. As usual the static sputtered in 
the receivers for a little. He tuned down to the 
short waves and the strange, grating sounds be- 
gan. 

It was very bad Morse — clumsy and irregular ; 
but that it was Morse, Belding was confident. 
There was something wrong either with the 
sender or with the instrument sending. 

Belding seized the pad of scratch paper and 
poised his pencil. For a few moments the “ghost 
talk’’ ceased. Was it all over for the time ? He 
waited impatiently, growing hot and cold with 
nervousness. 

There were plenty of other wave-sounds in the 
air, had he cared to listen to them. But he knew 
the monotonous and rasping letters — on a lower 
plane, even, than the commercial waves — were 
carried only at the level to which he had tuned 
the instrument. 

Suddenly: *^Colodia! Colodia! ColodiaT 

The words were rapped out harshly but briskly 
— each letter plainly to be read. Then Belding 
began to set down the unevenly sent letters as he 
could make them out, with a dash where he failed 
to catch the letter intended : 

“c,o,l,o,d,i,a,h,e,l,p,g,e,t,-— ,a,n, — ,s, — ,i,z, — ,d,r. 


186 THE WIRELESS CALL FOR HELP 


e,d,b,i,r,d, — ,o,r,b, — , — ,i,a,h,e,l,p,l,b,e,l,d,i, — , — 

George could not stop then to see whether these 
letters made any sense or not. He believed the 
main trouble with the message was that the sender 
used no punctuation. 

For a brief time the mystery ceased. Then 
again the sounds broke out — the same clumsy, 
uncertain Morse ; so bad, indeed, that at first the 
listener could make out a letter only now and 
then: 

— , — , — , — , — ,^y — •, e , r , e, — , b, i , 
r, — , — ,a,i,n, — ,e,d, — , — ,t,m, — , — ,t,i,n, — ,g,e,r, — 
, — ,n,s,s,e,i,z,e,d,s, — ,i, — ^,h,e,l,p.'’ 

There was silence again as far as the “ghost 
talk'’ was concerned. Belding waited with his 
pencil poised over the paper. 

His eyes meanwhile scanned the first list of 
letters he had set down. At first glance he be- 
lieved he made out the first three words in the 
message. They were, “Colodia,help,get.” After 
the break and several disconnected letters the 
word “redbird” fairly leaped at him from the 
page. Then, after a few misses and letters that 
made no sense, he got “help” again. Then he 
saw as clear as day: “L.Belding” — his sister’s 
signature ! 

“Colodia — help — get — Redbird — help — L.Beld- 
ing.” 

The young fellow shook all over as he sat there 


THE WIRELESS CALL FOR HELP 187 

before the radio instrument. This was a message 
from his sister, Lilian. Nothing could thereafter 
shake his belief in this statement. And that she 
and the Redbird were in peril Belding was posi- 
tive. 

The second combination of letters offered fewer 
understandable words than the first, or so it 
seemed to Belding at that moment. The begin- 
ning of this second message was entirely indis- 
tinguishable, but toward the end he got two words 
complete^ — '‘seized” and "help.” 

Altogether he was assured that he had guessed 
the main trouble with the sender of these strange 
messages. The words were all run together and 
the awkward and uneven sending made the un- 
punctuated words very hard to understand. 

Sparks touched him on the shoulder. He had 
a paper in his hand that a messenger had just 
brought. It was a radio that must be sent at once. 

"Let me at it for a minute, son,” the radio chief 
said. "Here’s a report for headquarters’ base. 
Did you get anything?” 

"I — I don’t know,” murmured George, giving 
place to the man. He left the room, taking with 
him the paper on which he had penciled the broken 
messages. 

Secretly he was confident that he had heard a 
call over the radio for help and that his sister 
Lilian, on the Redbird, was sending it. 


188 THE WIRELESS CALL FOR HELP 


He wanted to see Philip Morgan about it — to 
show the leader of the Seacove Navy Boys this 
paper with the two cryptograms he had picked 
out of the air. Like A 1 Torrance, Ikey Rosen- 
meyer, and Frenchy Donahue, George had come 
by this time to look upon Phil Morgan as a fellow 
of parts. Phil would be able to help him make 
these messages out, if anybody could! 

But he could have no time with Whistler until 
second dog watch that evening. Then he got the 
Seacove youth aside and showed him what he 
had managed to set down in letters from the 
‘‘ghost talk’" he had listened in on that afternoon. 

Whistler did not know a thing about Morse, or 
much about radio, but he had a sharp eye and a 
clear head. Belding had translated enough words 
of both messages to suggest the general trend of 
them. 

“How do you know where the letters ‘break" 
if you can"t hear all the dots and dashes?’" Whist- 
ler first asked, scanning the paper seriously. “That 
appears curious to me.” 

“Not in this case. If it is Lil sending — or 
whoever it is — the sender is so unfamiliar with 
the Morse American code that there is a hesita- 
tion between the letters. Why, I thought at first 
the message was in Continental code, which is, 
you know, entirely different from American.” 

“It’s all news to me, old boy. Go on.” 


THE WIRELESS CALL FOR HELP 189 

‘‘Why, there's nothing more. If I could hear 
those words repeated several times I reckon I’d 
get most of the letters — and get them straight.” 

“I see,” murmured his friend. “And as it is, 
you have got a good many of the words, only 
you haven’t noticed it.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Why, it is plain,” said Whistler, “that several 
of the same words are used in both messages.” 

“Yes. ‘Help’, 'Colodia', 'Redbird'/' 

“More than those,” said Whistler. “See! You 
have ‘seized’ plain as the nose on your face in 
the second set of letters.” 

“I see that.” 

“And there it is in the first list,” and Whistler 
pointed as he spoke to a combination of letters 
and blanks almost immediately following “Colodia 
— Help— Get.” “There is ‘s-e-i-z-e-d’, plain 
enough. And, yes, by Jove! There is ‘redbird’ 
in the second message. Look here, old man ! Let 
me go through this.” 

“That is what I want you to do,” responded 
Belding excitedly. 

“In the beginning the message surely says: 

‘Colodia! Help! Get!’ No! That should not 

be ‘getmans’ that ‘seized Redbird’. No, no! 
There is the same combination in the lower mes- 
sage. It is ‘ger’ down there, not ‘get’,” muttered 
Whistler, vastly interested now. 


190 THE WIRELESS CALL FOR HELP 


With pencil and paper he set to work. In five 
minutes he offered Belding the following para- 
graph as a translation in full of the first message : 

‘"Colodia! Help! Germans seized Redbird for 
Bahia. Help ! — L. Belding.” 

“Oh, Whistler, you’ve got it ! And it is as we 
have feared. Those papers that Emil Eberhardt 
stole from me back in England have played the 
dickens with the Redbird and the folks. I am 
sure it is Lil trying to call me — ^the splendid kid 
that she is!” 

“Hold on! Hold on!” Whistler said, but en- 
couragingly. “Let’s get the other message, too.” 

He set to work on that ; but the first of it baffled 
him. He could only begin to make it out where 
the word “Redbird” occurred. From that place 
on, it was not so difficult : “Redbird painted out 
— mutiny — Germans seized ship — Help.” This 
second message was not signed with Lilian Beld- 
ing’s name or her initials, but George knew the 
sending to have been the same as that of the first 
call for help. 

“But, Phil!” gasped the New York youth, 
“we don’t know a living thing about where the 
Redbird is, or what is happening to our folks.” 

“You’d think she would have tried to tell their 
situation in the message,” rejoined Whistler slowly. 

“If she knew. She’s a girl, and wouldn’t be 
likely to interest herself much in navigation.” 


THE WIRELESS CALL FOR HELP 191 

“Tut, tut, my boy ! Everybody at sea takes an 
interest in the course of the ship and her speed. 
Of course they do. Wait! Here is the abbrevia- 
tion for longitude right here — long.' Two 
blanks for the figures you did not catch, George, 
my boy!" 

“Do you think so?" murmured his friend. 

Whistler wrote it “Lat, — , — , long. — , — ." 
Then he had an inspiration and put in “name" 
before “Redbird." 

“There we have it in iull — except for the fig- 
ures of the Redbird's position. Look out for 
them next time, George. They are important." 

“Next time, Morgan?" gasped George Belding, 
excitedly. 

“Certainly. It stands to reason your sister is 
sending out messages for help whenever she gets 
a chance at the radio instrument on the Redbird. 
And take it from me, the most important thing 
she is trying to put over is the position of the ship 
from day to day. They take the sun at noon, and 
as soon afterward as she can, Lilian gets to the 
radio and sends that information into the air. 

“Believe me, George, you have some smart 
sister, and no mistake !" said Whistler Morgan in 
much admiration. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


THE SEA PIGEON IN SIGHT 

George Belding was for running right off to 
the radio chief, Mr. Sparks, to ask another chance 
to listen in on the wireless for further messages 
from the Redbird. The supposition that Germans 
in her crew had mutinied and seized his father’s 
ship became at once a certainty in George’s mind. 

Whistler, however, with his usual cautiousness, 
steadied his friend. 

‘There is no use making such an application 
now, George,” he said. ‘There will be none of 
this ‘ghost-talk’ in the air at this hour.” 

“Oh!” 

“You know, they only hear those messages in 
the afternoon watch. That is the only time, in 
all probability, that your sister can get to the 
radio. The rest of the time, perhaps, the regular 
radio man is on duty, and he is probably in league 
with the mutineers.” 

“My goodness, Phil!” ejaculated Belding, “that 
word ‘mutineers’ makes me tremble.” 

“It suggests the rough stuff, all right,” agreed 
the Seacove lad. “I hope my sisters and your 
folks will not be treated too outrageously by the 


192 


THE SEA PIGEON IN SIGHT 193 

gang that has got possession of your father’s 
ship.” 

“If we could only find them! We’re tied here 
on this old iron pot — ” 

“Hold on! Don’t malign the Colodia. We 
may be glad for their sakes that we are on this 
destroyer.” 

“I don’t see it. I wish I was on the Redbird/* 

“A fat chance! With those Germans com- 
mitting acts of barratry like painting out the 
Redbird's name ! That shows they are desperate 
men. And what could we do to them if we were 
in their power?” 

“What help can we give the folks from this 
distance?” groaned Belding. 

“This is a matter that will have to be brought 
to the attention of the Old Man, George. I am 
going to speak to Mr. MacMasters and ask him 
to get us a chance to interview Commander 
Lang.” 

“Will he listen to us, do you think?” 

“Of course he will,” said Whistler with con- 
fidence. 

The two friends could scarcely sleep in their 
watch below, and in the morning their anxiety 
was apparent to the other boys. 

Whistler watched for his chance and spoke to 
•Ensign MacMasters. The ensign would do any- 
thing within reason for Whistler and his friends. 


194 


THE SEA PIGEON IN SIGHT 


He considered the four Seacove lads about the 
finest boys aboard the Colodia. 

Upon hearing the story of the mystery message 
he became vastly interested. He went to see 
Sparks first of all, and then hurried to Com- 
mander Lang’s cabin. One reason why Mr. Mac- 
Masters was so eager to see the commander was 
because Sparks had told him that during the 
previous evening an operator at the Weather 
Bureau station at Arlington, Virginia, had asked 
the Colodials chief radio man: 

‘‘Have you caught message being put out for 
Colodiaf* 

While a radio man on the troopship Kinkadia 
demanded : 

“Anybody named Belding on Colodia? He ap- 
pears to be wanted by a ham.” 

Which was not a very respectful way of re- 
ferring to George’s sister. It showed, however, 
that Lilian’s uncertain sending was attracting at- 
tention at several points. 

It was mid-forenoon before the two friends 
were called into the presence of Commander 
Lang. Belding was bashful and allowed Whistler 
to do most of the talking. And he was impressed 
by the ease and coolness with which his friend 
went about the matter. 

Commander Lang met Phil Morgan as he 
would have met another man. There was nothing 


THE SEA PIGEON IN SIGHT 


195 


‘‘kiddish about Whistler,” A1 had once said. The 
commander of the Colodia examined the messages 
as the boys believed they were intended to read. 
He at once approved the application of George 
Belding to be attached to the radio squad until 
further notice. He sent for Sparks and heard 
his story of the mystery message. In every way 
he showed an acute interest in the affair. 

If the Redhird was somewhere at sea in charge 
of mutineers — Germans at that ! — to find her 
would be a task for the Colodia. But as Whistler 
had immediately seen, it was agreed that to dis- 
cover the course of the Redbird and her daily 
position by the sun were the most important 
points. 

The boys were most impatient for the time 
to come when George would take his “trick” at 
the radio instrument again. This would not be 
until the afternoon watch, when the radio man 
then on duty had carders to give the instrument 
over to George if the “ghosttalk” again was heard. 

It had been decided that George should try to 
reply to the mysterious call. By spelling out the 
name of his father’s ship, the Redbird, or calling 
Lilian Belding by name, it might be possible to 
communicate with the vessel and send a word of 
courage to the passengers. The desire was to 
encourage the sender of the strange message to 
repeat again and again the Redbird's situation. 


196 


THE SEA PIGEON IN SIGHT 


It was only possible to guess at the course of 
the ship bound for Bahia, as well as her present 
position. Lilian Belding had doubtless called for 
the Colodia because her brother and Whistler 
Morgan served on that naval vessel, not because 
she had any idea as to where the destroyer was. 

The two vessels might be a desperately long 
distance apart. That fact could not be over- 
looked. The boys were in a fever of expectation. 

As it drew near eight bells of the forenoon 
watch there came a message by wireless that was 
even more exciting for most of the cr6w than the 
mystery of the ‘‘ghost-talk.” 

“An S O S!” whispered the messenger to 
George Belding as he darted from the radio sta- 
tion to the bridge. 

Swiftly the watch officer read the message: 
“H. M. S. S. Ferret, from Porto Rico for Liver- 
pool, attacked by German cruiser Sea Pigeon, lat. 
twenty-one, long, fifty-eight. S O S.” 

The exciting information was instantly com- 
municated two ways — to the commander's cabin 
and to the chief engineer. The Colodia leaped 
forward, conned on her new course at once. They 
were off in another race to overtake the elusive 
German raider — and this time, perhaps, to find 
her. 

“But we may be going right away from the 
Redhirdr Belding complained to the other boys. 


THE SEA PIGEON IN SIGHT 


197 


*‘0n the other hand, we don’t know but it may 
be talcing us right toward your father’s vessel,” 
Whistler said, trying to comfort his friend. 

He felt worried himself about it. There would 
be no chance to try to reach the Redhird by radio 
during the afternoon watch. Whistler was just 
as anxious as Belding ; only he kept these feelings 
much more to himself. 

The radio sparked message after message to 
and from the British ship. The Colodia was the 
only naval craft within possible reach of the spot 
from which the call came, although there were 
both British cruisers and torpedo boats on the 
Bermuda and Bahama stations. 

But they were heavy craft, and it would have 
taken days for a boat from either station to reach 
the point indicated by the Ferret. Whereas, with 
good fortune, the American destroyer’s engines 
would drive her to the spot in three hours. 

Could the British merchant vessel keep up the 
unequal fight for that length of time? The Ger- 
man must have already engaged her, or the radio 
message from the Ferret as first transmitted 
would not have been so exact. 

From out of the air came messages from al! 
directions urging the Colodia on. The Ferret's 
SOS and the destroyer’s answer had been picked 
up by both ship and land stations. Ships long out 
of range, it would seem, became interested in the 


198 


THE SEA PIGEON IN SIGHT 


attempt to *‘get” the raider which had already 
cut such a swath among shipping in the Atlantic. 

Remembering the fate of the Susanne, the crew 
of the Colodia had some reason for believing that 
this dash of the good destroyer was a ‘dong shot.” 
It seemed scarcely possible that she would arrive 
at the scene of the fight in time to save the mer- 
chant ship from complete disaster. 

Yet the radio messages were encouraging. 
After an hour the Ferret reported no serious dam- 
age done and that they had put two shells aboard 
their pursuer from their well-manned deck guns. 

“Well done, Ferret!” flashed the destroyer's 
radio. “Keep up the good work.” 

Yet every moment it was expected aboard the 
Colodia that either the wireless on the steamship 
would be destroyed, or she would report serious 
injury to her machinery. The raider would, of 
course, strive to place her shells where they would 
utterly cripple her victim — either under the stern 
and smash the propellers, or amidships and burst 
boilers or wreck engines. 

The Colodia' s crew were ordered to stations, 
more for the sake of keeping order on deck than 
for aught else. Every man who could be spared 
from below was ranged along the decks. Gun 
covers were removed, breech blocks looked to, and 
every man was keyed to a high pitch. 

“Talk about efficiency!” growled Ensign Mac- 


THE SEA PIGEON IN SIGHT 


199 


Masters. ‘‘WeVe got it. Just because the Ger- 
mans have been abusing the word is no reason 
why we should not properly use it. They are 
often efficient to a useless end; but we’ll show 
that sea-raider, if we get a chance, that the old 
Colodia is more efficient than a German ever 
dared be!” 

The destroyer plowed on and on, while every 
minute that elapsed without their hearing that 
the Ferret was wrecked encouraged hope. Now 
and again word came that the British ship, with 
dogged persistency, was holding out. She had 
been hit now several times, and the Sea Pigeon 
was reported as being almost on top of her. Still 
she was providentially saved from disaster. 

Through the heat of a tropical noontide the 
destroyer rushed on toward the fight. The crew 
looked for no shelter now, they only desired to 
see the smoke of the guns ahead. 

And before six bells of the afternoon watch 
they had the desire of their eyes I The lookouts 
began to yell the glad tidings to the bridge, and 
the crew took up the news with a mighty shout. 

The wind was against their hearing the guns 
at first, but finally the thundering roll of the 
weapons reached the e^lrs of the Americans. The 
Colodia seemed to increase her speed. The smoke 
rolled back from her stacks and lay flat along the 


200 


THE SEA PIGEON IN SIGHT 


sea as though painted there with one stroke of a 
giant brush. 

Within a few minutes they could see balloons 
of smoke billowing up ahead, but these were from 
no ship afire. They were the announcement of 
gun discharges. 

On the destroyer tore through the quiet sea. 
The lookouts hailed for the upperworks of the 
Ferret. Another message came by radio that the 
attacked steamship had seen and hailed with de- 
light her rescuer. 

The explosion of the guns ahead brought joy 
to the hearts of the Colodiafs crew. There was 
the prospect of a real fight! The smoke of the 
raider was announced. The destroyer’s course 
was swerved ever so slightly that she might pass 
the battered Ferret and draw thei fire of the Ger- 
man from the merchant ship. 

Then the order was given, and her own guns 
began to speak. It was at long range, but the 
marksmanship of American gun crews had be- 
come really wonderful. The high, shrieking shells 
sought out the German ship, and within the first 
dozen sent over, the radio man on the Ferret re- 
ported a ''strike.” One of the Sea Pigeon's 
smokestacks was carried away ! 

The fight was on. The Americans hoped to get 
near enough to the German boat to bring her to 
terms within a very short time. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


THE BLIND CHASE 

The excitement of the dash for the embattling 
ships left the Colodia's company no thought for 
anything else. Even dinner had been half-neg- 
lected, although that came early in the race. 

As for weather indications or the like, nobody 
thought of such things. And here suddenly ap- 
peared a phenomenon that bade fair to help the 
Germans and place the destroyer in a less con- 
fident position. 

The American ship had arrived just in time to 
save the Ferret; her upperworks were badly 
wrecked although providentially the wireless out- 
fit of the British ship was not crippled. 

One of her guns was put out of commission 
and a shell under the stern had knocked out the 
propeller just as the Colodia entered the fight. 
She swung now to the slow current, and as the 
destroyer rushed past her the British crew could 
only cheer her on. Their work was done — and 
done well! 

But here came a cloud rolling along the surface 
of the sea from the south that offered shelter for 
the raider, the prow of which was already turned 


201 


202 


THE BLIND CHASE 


in that direction. The German had no intention 
of remaining to fight the battle out with the guns 
of the destroyer. 

The raider was not, of course, any match for 
the American naval vessel. It was the part of 
wisdom for her to run. Besides, she was already 
crippled, and it would have been but a matter of 
a few minutes before she would either have to 
capitulate or be sunk had she continued in the 
fight. The Colo dm might even have kept out of 
range of the raider’s guns, circled about the Ger- 
man, and destroyed her at pleasure. Or she could 
have sent a torpedo against the pirate ship and 
blown her to bits. 

Here, however, fortune helped the enemy. The 
cloud of fog laid along the surface of the sea 
offered the Sea Pigeon refuge. She proved again 
that she was a ‘‘wary bird !” 

Into the cloud she dashed, and where she went 
after that — although the fog bank was low — ^the 
lookouts of the Colodia could not tell. 

“If we only had a hydroplane to send up!” said 
Whistler Morgan to his chums. “The time will 
come when every destroyer will have its pair of 
hydroplanes for observation. From a thousand 
feet up, that fog would never shelter the raider. 
The hydroplane could signal us the raider’s posi- 
tion and we’d follow her just as though it were 
clear weather.” 


THE BLIND CHASE 


203 


In this case, however, the commander of the 
destroyer did not wish to desert the Ferreft until 
he had learned her condition. The Colodia de- 
scribed a wide circle and steamed back within 
hailing distance of the crippled British ship. 

Fortunately there were no women or other 
passengers aboard this vessel. Her wounded were 
few, too. The hull of the craft had not suffered. 
Already her machinists were at work on the pro- 
peller. They had new blades in the hold, and the 
end of the shaft was not injured. They proposed 
to sweat on the new propeller, make such other 
repairs as were necessary, and then attempt to 
limp into the Bermuda station under her own 
steam. 

‘‘You can’t beat those fellows!” said Ensign 
MacMasters admiringly. “The merchant sailors 
nowadays have more to face than we do, and 
with less chance of getting safely out of a scrim- 
mage. I wouldn’t want to be hobbling along in 
that cripple to the Bermudas with that German 
pirate in the vicinity.” 

Just where the Sect Pigeon had gone behind the 
fog they could only surmise. But Commander 
Lang ordered a course south by west, hoping that 
the raider would turn up again. 

Phil Morgan and George Belding had time to 
think of the Redhird and her precious freight 
once more. It was little satisfaction for either to 


204 


THE BLIND CHASE 


know that Sparks and his assistants were on the 
lookout for messages from the sailing ship. 

Nothing came up that night to give the anxious 
boys any satisfaction. Sparks reported nothing 
in the morning. But as the hour drew near when 
the mysterious messages usually came over, both 
Belding and Whistler Morgan hung about the 
door of the radio room. 

The radio chief knew just how anxioiis they 
were and he did not scold them. Soon after 
dinner he sent George to the bench to try to pick 
up the uncertain sounds that he believed came 
from the Redbird's wireless. 

George could only get a letter now and then. 
The sending — if it was it — was weaker than be- 
fore. In desperation the youth began to send 
himself : 

(aye, aye, aye) Colodia!” 

He repeated this over and over again. An hour 
passed before he got what seemed to be a direct 
answer. Then : 

‘‘Colodia! Help! Redbird!” 

Belding fairly shouted aloud in his excitement. 
But when he turned to see Mr. Sparks and the 
others at the door watching him, he subsided and 
began to send calmly : 

“Give position ! Give position ! Redbird, give 
position !” 

This went on for some time, and then he caught 


THE BLIND CHASE 


205 


the grating and uncertain sound of what he was 
confident was his sister’s sending. He tuned his 
instrument up and down the scale before getting 
the best adjustment. Out of the air he finally 
received letters which he wrote down falteringly 
and passed to Mr. Sparks and Whistler. While 
the message was being repeated the radio man 
and Phil Morgan made out the following 
paragraph : 

*‘Ship Redbird for Bahia seized by German 
mutineers. Position, lat. 17, long. 59. Help! — 
L. Belding.” 

“It’s Lilian, all right! Hurray!” exclaimed 
Whistler, and Belding heard him. 

The latter was now repeating, again and again, 
the announcement that the Colodia heard the mes- 
sage and was coming. Sparks hurried away to 
seek Commander Lang with the news. The posi- 
tion of the sailing ship was within easy reach of 
the destroyer. 

But the messages stopped suddenly. Not an- 
other word came from the Redbird. Belding 
came away from the instrument at last, feeling 
anything but hopeful. 

“Something’s happened to her,” he whispered 
to Morgan. “I fear Lilian has got into trouble 
by her work at the Redbird' s wireless. What do 
you think, Phil?” 

“I am not going to lose hope. We will find 


206 


THE BLIND CHASE 


the ship and rescue our folks from the mutineers. 
Don’t doubt it, George !” 

‘It was difficult to keep up their courage, how- 
ever, when there was so much uncertainty regard- 
ing the sailing ship’s condition. It might be, too, 
that the latitude and longitude was several points 
off. A full degree is sixty miles, and sixty miles 
is a long way across the ocean ! 

Just before dark they raised the smoke of a 
steamer ahead and sailing athwart the destroyer’s 
course. This surely could not be the Redhird; 
yet the destroyer could not allow the stranger to 
pass without investigation. 

Her radio could get no answer from the ship. 
It seemed as though the stranger was running 
away from the Colodia. Naturally suspicion was 
aroused in the minds of the commander that it 
was the Sea Pigeon. 

But it became a blind chase as night fell upon 
them. They saw no lights, and the tropical night 
comes so suddenly that to have overtaken the 
steamship before dark was an utter impossibility. 
The destroyer swung back into her direct course 
for the point from which the last radio message 
of the Redhird was supposed to have come. 


CHAPTER XXV 


A NEW CONVOY 

At dawn, while a light fog still overspread the 
sea, the crash of distant guns was brought to the 
ears of the watch on duty. From what direction 
the reports came it was impossible for the Colo- 
diofs officers to determine. 

It was still too dark for the lookouts to make 
out anything at a distance, even had the morning 
been perfectly clear. But all hands were aroused, 
the word running from deck to deck that the de- 
stroyer was within sound of a naval action of 
some kind. 

It was not a signal gun they heard, for several 
shots were fired simultaneously. Then there was 
silence again. The Colodia sped on her course, 
the hope being expressed by all that ‘ffilind luck,’’ 
if nothing else, might lead her to the scene. 

Just before the sun rose above the sea line the 
lookouts began to shout their discoveries. Out 
of the fog, but at a great distance, they saw the 
upper spars and canvas of a great sailing ship. 
The Colodia's direction was changed to run closer 
to this vessel. 

“It’s a chance we have found her,” munnured 


207 


208 


A NEW CONVOY 


Whistler to George Belding. ‘‘She is square 
rigged, and she is some ship in size, believe me 1” 

For, moment by moment, the fog was thinning 
and the outlines of the spars and sails became 
clearer. From the deck of the destroyer these 
became visible. 

The excitement of the Seacove boys and George 
Belding was quite overpowering. That their 
friends aboard the Redbird were in the hands of 
mutineers they were assured; and now the guns, 
which began to speak again, forewarned of added 
peril! 

As the sun came out they saw that the upper 
canvas of the ship they had sighted was being 
furled. Sail after sail disappeared. It was as 
though she was being stripped of her canvas. 

“She’s under the guns of that raider. I’ll bet a 
cent!” declared A1 Torrance. “So she has had to 
stop her headway. Those guns were for the pur- 
pose of making the ship — whoever she is — ^lie to.” 

“But if it is the Redbird, the Germans already 
have command of her,” cried Belding. 

“We don’t know who she is yet,” said Whistler. 

“Oi, oil” gasped Ikey Rosenmeyer, “I’m so 
excited yet I can’t keep still. Isn’t it great, 
Frenchy ?” 

“Sure, it’s the greatest experience we’ve had,” 
admitted the Irish lad. “For we don’t know 
whether we are approaching friend or foe.” 


A NEW CONVOY 


209 


Nor was the destroyer’s approach visible to 
those aboard the sailing ship for some time. Her 
color and the gray fog that lingered on the sur- 
face of the sea aided in this. 

There were no more guns for a time, but it was 
quite evident that the sailing vessel had lost much 
headway. It was then that the lookouts in the 
tops of the Colodia first glimpsed the ship that 
had fired the guns. She was a steamer coming 
rapidly up on the course of the sailing vessel. 

Two more guns were fired, but the shells seemed 
not to have burst near the victim of the outrage. 
They were meant merely as a threat. The sail- 
ing craft which was nearer to the destroyer was 
observed to be signaling with flags. The signals 
were in a code that the signalmen of the Colodia 
did not know, and they so reported to Commander 
Lang. 

The Huns aboard the Redhird are signaling to 
the Huns on the Sea Pigeon/' was the confident 
declaration of prophetic A1 Torrance. 

‘Tf it is so, you caa just believe that they are 
telling the raider of our approach. They must 
see the Colodia coming now,” Whistler observed. 

'^Suddenly, with the «tm’s round face appearing 
above the sea line, the last whisps of fog were 
whipped away. The tropical heat burned up the 
moisture in a flash. 

"'Boats at the davits of the ship now being 


210 


A NEW CONVOY 


manned, sir!” came the hail from one of the de- 
stroyer’s lookouts. 

“They are abandoning ship!” was the word 
passed along the decks. 

“If it is the Redbirdr murmured Belding to 
Phil Morgan, “what do you suppose will happen 
to my father and mother and the girls?” 

Whistler had no answer ready. He kept his 
lips shut grimly and stared straight ahead. 

The distance of the destroyer from the steamer 
believed to be the German raider, was too great 
as yet for a shot to be tried. They were near 
enough to the sailing ship to see two boats 
launched before it was considered well to use the 
guns. 

Then the Colodia sent her first shells close to 
the boats that were being rowed toward the steam 
craft. 

“There are only men in those lifeboats,” de- 
clared Ensign MacMasters, who had been exam- 
ining the distant specks through powerful glasses. 
“It looks as though the mutineers had abandoned 
ship and passengers and were attempting to join 
their fellow countrymen aboard the Sea Pigeon.” 

Immediately the commander ordered shells to 
be dropped between the small boats and the 
steamer, and the long distance guns began to 
crack at the raider over the heads of the escaping 
mutineers. 


A NEW CONVOY 


211 


With her smoke trailing behind her and the 
guns barking in rapid succession, the Colodia 
raced toward the scene. She kept well away from 
the sailing craft, but she drove on in a way to 
cut off the two rowboats from the raider. 

That it was the Sea Pigeon, nobody aboard the 
destroyer now doubted. 

‘WeVe going to kill two birds with one stone, 
boys !” declared Ensign MacMasters cheerfully to 
the Navy Boys. ‘T’ll bet that sailing ship is the 
one your friends are aboard. 

His cheerfulness did not wholly overcome 
George Belding’s depression. George was now 
worrying as to what had been done to the passen- 
gers of the Redbird before the mutineers left the 
sailing ship! 

That she was his father’s vessel he was con- 
fident. Her rig was familiar to him. 

As the destroyer drew nearer, too, her crew 
saw certain figures on the deck of the sailing 
vessel that seemed to be wildly signaling the naval 
craft. Just then the Colodia could not stop to 
investigate. Her work was to settle first with 
the Germans. 

The raider had finally started away from the 
vicinity, leaving the crews of the two boats to 
shift for themselves. It was her only chance for 
escape, for the destroyer could outsteam the Sea 
Pigeon, fast as she was. 


212 


A NEW CONVOY 


A fortunate shot knocked away the jury smoke- 
stack which had been put in place of the one the 
destroyer had previously smashed. Interior dam- 
age was done by this shell, too. This was im- 
mediately apprehended by the raider’s movements. 

‘‘Hold fire!” commanded the executive officer 
of the Colodia. Signals were sent up ordering 
the German to surrender. Almost at once a white 
ensign was displayed, and at the sight of it the 
destroyer’s crew went mad with excitement. 

Better than merely sinking the Sea Pigeon — 
they had captured her ! Their work of five weeks 
at sea, away from their base, had ended glori- 
ously. The raider doubtless had a valuable 
cargo, and the fact that she would be put out 
of commission was a heavy blow to the German 
arms. 

Swiftly the destroyer approached and, at a cer- 
tain distance, sent a boat off to the Sea Pigeon 
to bring her captain and a part of her force aboard 
the American ship. But Commander Lang, un- 
derstanding fully the anxiety of Phil Morgan and 
George Belding, ordered another motor boat 
launched and allowed them to be members of her 
crew. She was sent directly to the sailing ship 
which now lay about two miles away. 

Passing the two lifeboats, Ensign MacMasters, 
who was in command of the launch, questioned 
briefly their frightened crews. At first they de- 


A NEW CONVOY 


213 


nied that they were mutineers. They declared 
the raider had commanded them to abandon their 
ship and row aboard the Sea Pigeon. 

But when they were asked the name of the sail- 
ing ship, and other pertinent queries, the sailors 
broke down. All but their leader. 

Suddenly George Belding uttered an exclama- 
tion of surprise. 

“Phil! Phil Morgan!” he shouted, forgetting 
in his excitement to address their commanding 
officer. “Don’t you know that fellow steering the 
second boat?” 

“I see him,” returned Whistler. “I — I do know 
him! Mr. MacMasters! That is the spy from 
the Zeppelin we told you about!” 

“Emil Eberhardt, I do believe,” murmured 
Belding. “It’s no wonder things went wrong 
aboard the Redbird when that scoundrel was able 
to cross the ocean and join her crew.” 

No further information could be obtained from 
the mutineers at that time. They were quite help- 
less, and could only row on to the destroyer and 
give themselves up as commanded. 

Meanwhile the motor launch ran alongside the 
big, square-rigged ship. Three girls at the rail 
shrieked their delight at sight of Whistler and 
George Belding. The latter’s father and mother 
likewise appeared as the boys, following Mr. Mac- 
Masters, went up the ladder which had been left 


214 


A NEW CONVOY 


hanging over the side when the mutineers aban- 
doned the ship. 

The Germans had carried away Mr. Belding’s 
money — ^and it was a great sum — in the lifeboats ; 
but they dared not throw it overboard and so, 
later, it was recovered. Otherwise the mutineers 
had done little damage, nor had they treated the 
Americans on the ship badly. 

After the greetings were over the story of how 
the radio messages were sent was told in full. 
The radio man aboard the Redbird was a German 
sympathizer. He usually slept through the after- 
noon watch, however, and it was then the girls 
had been able to get regularly at the instrument. 
The rest of the crew thought Lilian was only 
playing with the radio. She told them she could 
receive a little, but she sent in so clumsy a way 
that the Germans paid little attention to her. 

‘‘And, of course, I never was a Morse expert,” 
the girl said, laughing. “You used to make fun 
of me, George, when we had the radio plant at 
home; but I guess I could be an operator, if I 
put my mind to it, as well as you.” 

“You’re all right, Lil,” declared her brother. 
Then with a grin, he added : “I know Phil thinks 
you are. He can’t keep his eyes off you.” 

There was a great deal to say, of course; but 
there was more to do. The boys were left aboard 
while Mr. MacMasters returned to the Colodia 


A NEW CONVOY 


215 


with Captain Lawdor of the Redbird, who had 
been locked into his cabin by the mutineers. He 
wished to confer with Commander Lang regard- 
ing the make-up of a crew to work his ship into 
some port. She could not go all the way to Bahia 
with only the handful of men who had remained 
faithful. 

This was overcome very easily, however. The 
captured raider was repaired and was sent north 
with a prize crew. Then the commander of the 
destroyer sent help aboard the Redbird and agreed 
to convoy the sailing ship into a safe zone. 

Farther south the Brazilian warships were 
patroling the coast of South America, and they 
would accompany the big sailing vessel into Bahia. 
For, of course, Mr. Belding had no intention of 
changing his plans, having already come so far 
from New York. 

The girls were too courageous to lose spirit. 
Phoebe, who had been so ill when last her brother 
had seen her, was getting plump again. She had 
marvelously improved during the brief weeks of 
her sojourn at sea. 

Altogether, both Philip Morgan and George 
Belding had become quite happy and content when 
the Colodia finally signaled the Redbird good-bye 
and turned her prow north once more. She had 
been ordered to follow the captured raider into 
Hampton Roads, there to refit. 


216 


A NEW CONVOY 


Nevertheless, as America’s activities in the war 
— especially her naval activities — were increasing 
rather than diminishing, the Navy Boys did not 
expect to be idle, even if the Colodia was laid up 
for a while. 

‘‘No rest for the wicked,” quoted A1 Torrance, 
wagging his head. 

“Oi, oi !” cried Ikey. “You know you are not 
looking for a rest, Torry.” 

“Seems to me,” Belding said, “that it will be 
rather nice to walk on the streets once more.” 

“Bet we’ll all be land-sick when we get ashore,” 
grinned Frenchy Donahue. “How ’bout it, 
Whistler?” 

Whistler said, thoughtfully : “But wouldn’t it 
be nice if we could have had our leave ashore at 
Bahia, with the girls?” 

“Wow, wow !” shouted the Irish lad. 

“He’s hopeless,” groaned Ikey Rosenmeyer. 
“He is even worse than Frenchy ever was. Why, 
he can’t keep his mind off those girls at all !” 

But the older lad only grinned. It was small 
matter to Whistler Morgan whether they tried to 
worry him or not. Lilian Belding was certainly 
a pretty girl ! 


THE END 


Navy Boys Series 

By HALSEY DAVIDSON 

12mo, cloth, illustrated and with colored jacket 

The true story of the American Jackies of to- 
day — clean-cut, brave and always on the alert. The 
boys join the navy, do a lot of training, and ore 
then assigned to regular service. They aid in 
sinking a number of submarines, help to capture 
a notorious German sea raider, and do their share 
during the taking over of the enemy ^s navy. A 
splen^d picture of the American navy of to-day. 


NAVY BOYS AFTER A SUBMARINE 

Or Protecting the Giant Convoy 

NAVY BOYS CHASING A SEA 
RAIDER 

Or Landing a Million Dollar Prize 


NAVY BOYS BEHIND THE BIG 
GUNS 

Or Sinking the Gorman U-Boats 

NAVY BOYS TO THE RESCUE 

Or Answering the Wireless Call for Help 

NAVY BOYS AT THE BIG SURREN- 
DER 

Or Rounding Up the German Fleet 


GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY 


Publishers 


New York 


Army Boys Series 

By HOMER RANDALL 

12mo, cloth, illustrated and with colored jacket 

Here we have true*to-life pictures of what our 
brave soldier boys did, in the training camps, 
aboard the transport, and on the battlefields of 
Prance. ‘How they went over the top and had 
thrilling hand-to-hand encounters with the Huns, is 
told in a manner to interest all. Many side lights 
are given of how the soldiers enjoyed themselves 
during the off hours. A series which ought to be 
on every bookshelf in the land. 


ARMY BOYS IN FRANCE 

Or From Training Camp to Trenches 

ARMY BOYS IN THE FRENCH 
TRENCHES 

Or Hand to Hand Fights With the Enemy 

ARMY BOYS ON THE FIRING LINE 

Or Holding Back the German Drive 

ARMY BOYS IN THE BIG DRIVE 

Or Smashing Forward to Victory 

ARMY BOYS MARCHING INTO 
GERMANY 

Or Over the Rhine with the Stars and Stripes 

GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY 


Publishers 


New York 


Air Service Boys 
Series 

By CHARLES AMORY BEACH 

12mo, cloth, illustrated and with colored jacket 

Two chums join the air service in this country 
and then go to France and enter the Lafayette 
Escadrille. After doing their duty to our sister 
republic they re-enter the American service and 
are put to the most severe tests as airmen. They 
manage to locate a long-range German cannon 
which is doing terrific damage, and are present at 
the bombing of the last Hun stronghold. A series 
by one who knows all about army aviation. 

AIR SERVICE BOYS FLYING FOR 
FRANCE 

Or The Young Heroes of the Lafayette Esca- 
drille 

AIR SERVICE BOYS OVER THE 
ENEMY’S LINES 
Or The German Spy’s Secret 

AIR SERVICE BOYS OVER THE 
RHINE 

Or Fighting Above the Clouds 

AIR SERVICE BOYS IN THE BIG 
BATTLE 

Or Silencing the Big Guns 

AIR SERVICE BOYS FLYING FOR 
VICTORY 

Or Bombing the Last German Stronghold 

GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY 


Publishers 


New York 


Joe Strong Series 

12mo, cloth, colored jacket and illustrated 

Vance Barnum is a real treasure when it 
comes to telling about how magicians do their 
weird tricks, how the circus acrobats pull off 
their various stunts, how the “fishman” re- 
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from his vast experience. They are real st 
ries bound to hold their audiences breathlessly. 

JOE STRONG, THE BOY WIZARD 

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JOE STRONG ON THE TRAPEZE 

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JOE STRONG, THE BOY FISH 

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JOE STRONG ON THE HIGH WIRE 

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JOE STRONG AND HIS WINGS OF 
STEEL 

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JOE STRONG AND HIS BOX OF 
VIYSTERY 

Or The Ten Thousand Dollar Prize Track 

JOE STRONG, THE BOY FIRE- 
EATER 

Or The Most Dangerous Performance on 
Record 

GEORGE SULLY & COMPANY 

Publishers'? || 7 8 York 


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